


Tea and... Sugar?

by SilverScaler3000



Category: RWBY, The Wizard of Oz & Related Fandoms
Genre: (cause it’s MY fic and I say they exist), (tin man makes it twice as ironic), ... and everything, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Arguing, Attraction, Aura depleting chains, Awkward Flirting, Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Depression, Drugged Sex, Drunkenness, Electrical Shocks, Everyone is worried about Qrow, Explicit Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, False Identity, Faunus-ism?, Grieving, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I REALLY hope I don’t scar anyone for life with this, I should probably stop..., James Ironwood has a heart, James gives a hug, James is in over his head, LITERALLY, M/M, Mild Blood/Gore, Misunderstandings, Multiple Orgasms, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Qrow needs a hug, Qrow shuts down, Qrow tries to fly away from his problems, Qrow’s bird form, Racism, Reincarnation, Rough Sex, Secrets, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Set 8 years prior to the events of Volume 3, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tied to Bed, Trauma, Vytal Festival, Wakes & Funerals, Yeah I’m totally being tag ‘trigger happy’ right now aren’t I?, like WAY over his head, lying, prisoner, recollections, who cares?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-07-11 03:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15964058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverScaler3000/pseuds/SilverScaler3000
Summary: While everyone gets caught up in finding not only a replacement to be the headmaster for Haven Academy, but a new member for Ozpin's circle against Salem, Qrow continues to look for the Winter maiden.When he returns earlier than expected and begins to behave oddly, however, soon everyone grows concerned for him. Ozpin and Glynda ask James to try to find out what’s wrong, but the truth is far darker, far more horrible and twisted, than any of them could have possibly imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LacePendragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LacePendragon/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James: Oh no
> 
> Qrow: Don't tell me, Silv's about to send us tumbling into one of their lame fics?
> 
> James: Yep
> 
> Qrow: Sharp rocks laced with angst at the bottom?
> 
> James: Most likely 
> 
> Qrow: …bring it on 
> 
>  

**_To AniPendragon, whose work gave me joy in some of my darkest hours, and who's inspired me to take risks with pairings not everyone may enjoy and just go with what I’m feeling._ **

**_à votre santé_ **

 

 

Glynda Goodwitch was perhaps the most terrifying person James had ever met.

The kingdom of Atlas was well known for having stern, strong people, hardened by the ice and snow of the vicious climate, but Glynda could make all of them seem cheerful in comparison to her. She had an attitude that commanded respect, combat abilities that made hundreds of highly skilled Huntsmen and Huntresses from across the four kingdoms feel awestruck whenever they were in the face of it, and had a fiery temper that could make even the bravest Atlesian soldiers quiver in their boots.

He was speaking from personal experience on that last one, of course.

It was only the fact that he knew she was a combination of all of those things and more, that had made James relent to her demands and accompany her on a trip to downtown Vale. It had been a very long, very heated argument, but James didn’t think even Ozpin himself could possibly deny her when she had _that_ look in her eyes; the one that her students whispered could stop Goliaths in their tracks.

He kept reminding himself of this as he literally jumped out of the way of a Beacon student running past, clearly using a semblance of some kind to propel themselves forward faster. Glynda frowned and shouted after them, making quite a few people in their immediate vicinity flinch at her cold tone and demeanor. James merely sighed and tried not to let his annoyance show. The student paused, their shoes screeching on the pavement as they came to a sudden halt. They looked back at their professor sheepishly before walking calmly down the street. Glynda shook her head at them, and then looked over her shoulder, telling James gruffly to hurry up. He sighed again.

It wasn’t that he didn’t  _want_ to keep her company. They rarely saw one another, and it was nice to talk with her outside of Ozpin’s meetings. But helping her choose presents for someone retiring from Beacon’s staff  _and_ a gift for the new professor about to take over the position - he believed she said his name was Dr. Oobleck - wasn’t exactly his forte. It also just wasn’t his personal preference to walk around without an escort of some kind in such a public area, especially when it was  _this_ crowded.

The Vytal Festival Tournament had always brought hundreds from across the four kingdoms to spectate, and this year was no exception. Ever since the great war ended seventy-two years ago, the Vytal Festival Tournament had become the world's greatest symbol of peace; of the strength and unity mankind now held against the Grimm. People always came to support friends and families, to strengthen the bonds between the kingdoms, and show how their differences did not change the fact they were, undoubtedly, _united_.

And make no mistake, the Vytal Festival Tournament’s were always amazing at creating an air of happiness, a feeling of hope and trust for the people’s future Huntsman and Huntress’s. What James always told his soldiers and students was true, positive emotions were a good way to prevent attracting the creatures of Grimm, and there was no greater source of joy than attending the thirty-sixth festival.

James just didn’t like to be caught in the thick of it.

Here, in the crowded city streets of Vale, there were too many people pressing in on all sides, bumping into his prosthetic arm and sending waves of embarrassment and nerves through him. Even after twelve years, James still couldn’t honestly say that he was comfortable with half of his body being metal prosthetics.

He had voiced his complaints, but Glynda had told him to ‘stop whining’. After a while they did, however, come to a less crowded area, much to James’ relief. He suspected Glynda had purposefully brought them here because of his discomfort, but she would never admit that.

Now he shook his head with amusement, watching as she hackled for better prices on rounds of dust with a poor shopkeeper. It reminded him of the first time they met when she had argued a foul during  _their_ Vytal festival tournament some eighteen years ago.

They had both been first years, which in of itself had gained a lot of attention, seeing as how there weren’t that many first-year teams competing at that particular festival. Not to mention James already held a high rank in the Atlas military, a captain at the age of seventeen, and even back then people had speculated he would become the greatest general Atlas had ever seen, better even then his father before him.

Less than ten years later, he had proved them right.

Back to the festival, it had been his team from Atlas, JADE, versus Glynda’s team from Beacon, GOLD. The fight had been long and brutal, with James managing only to lower one person's aura down halfway before he himself had been knocked from the battlefield along with his partner and other teammate, leaving only one member standing. Their name was Damian. He was an excellent student and fighter, but there was one thing about him that set the teen apart from all the other students at Atlas Academy.

Damion had been a Lion Faunus.

He was the first Faunus to ever be accepted into Atlas Academy, and only around the twentieth to ever be allowed into one of the four Huntsman Academies. As one could expect, he dealt with a great deal of racism on a daily basis despite being on James’ team. James had even been told by him quietly that ‘Damion’ wasn't his real name, and that he felt like a _coward_ for hiding behind it.

James didn’t know what he had expected that day all those years ago, but given the fact that the Vytal Festival was meant to be a symbol of peace and the encouragement of embracing differences, he certainly hadn’t expected what came next.

Seeing that Damion was the only foe left standing, team GOLD began to attack him relentlessly. His aura was shattered in minutes, and the match was won. There was absolutely no need to keep fighting, the battle was over, but…

They didn’t  _stop_.

Two of the members began taunting Damion, firing shots at his feet while he jumped away, barely strong enough to do even that. Glynda snapped at her teammates, telling them to stop, but then one of the bolder members of the team, a young man named Odin Winchester, grabbed onto Damion's tail. James would never forget how terrified Damion had looked when Odin had said he wouldn’t mind cutting it off and having it as a trophy, yanking it harder to demonstrate his point. James had gotten to his feet, ready to protect his teammate-

But there was no need.

Glynda acted immediately, knocking Odin away from Damion with her riding crop. She then turned to face the judges, and told them that team GOLD forfeited the match. The stadium had been in an uproar, but because Glynda was the team leader, she had the right to make that call. Ever since then, James held nothing but respect for the huntress that would put her own wants and needs aside to help someone, no matter who, or what, they were.

The memory brought a smile to James’ face, and after Glynda had returned to his side and they had continued to walk through Vale’s shopping district, he couldn’t help but chuckle as another thought struck him.

“What’s so humorous, James?” Glynda asked with an eyebrow raised, somehow managing to sound cheerful and serious at the same time.

James’ smiled widened as he turned his head to look at her. “I was just thinking about team AQUA from Haven and team AMBR from Shade’s match,” he explained, walking carefully around a group of students running by. “I couldn’t help but think how at their age, _you_ could have wiped both teams out in an instant if the thought crossed your mind.”

Glynda preened at the compliment, then nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, team AQUA’s members clearly don’t function well as a group, and team AMBR only listened to half of what their leader told them. I truly question how either team made it into the tournament.”

James was about to say more when his scroll buzzed, cutting him off. “Excuse me,” he murmured apologetically, grabbing it from his coat pocket and putting it to his ear. “Ironwood,” he said, his tone automatically settling into what Doctor Polendina often referred to as his ‘general’ voice.

“Not at all,” Glynda muttered sarcastically, giving him a smile that was halfway between fond and exasperated, “Don’t let me stand between you and your technology. I know you two are _very_ close, joint at the hip, one might say.”

She emphasized her point by slapping his prosthetic side playfully, making James startle. He gave her a withering look but was kept from replying by whatever was said on the other line. Glynda frowned as he tensed, clearly angry.

“Understood,” he said to whomever he was talking to. He then hung up his scroll, seething. “That was Ozpin,” he said, clearly struggling to keep his - quite frankly obvious - rage out of his voice. “One of my specialists in training and Qrow Branwen had been arguing with one another, and apparently it escalated into an _actual_ _fight_.”

Glynda started, her mouth falling open slightly. “Was anyone injured?” she asked.

“No,” James said, “Thankfully the new teacher you were telling me about, Bartholomew Oobleck, stepped in before things could escalate any further. There is, however, a rather large hole in the wall on the east side Beacon now.”

Glynda's eyes widened, then narrowed. She grit her teeth. “I suppose Ozpin will want me to look into that,” she muttered through clenched molars.

James didn’t bother answering her. He turned around and started heading in the direction of the academy, trusting Glynda would follow.

 

 

James tapped his foot impatiently as the elevator doors closed. When they were finally shut he allowed a small sigh to slip past his lips, and he closed his eyes for a brief moment as it rumbled to life; beginning to slowly lift him to Ozpin’s office.

He and Glynda had gone their separate ways soon after they reached the school grounds, Glynda heading off with Dr. Oobleck after briefly introducing him to the general, and James moving quickly in the direction of Ozpin’s office. Now he stood impatiently in the elevator as it rose to the top floor, wondering just what kind of scene he’d be stepping into.

Although Qrow could be polite and friendly when he wanted to be, James had come to learn over the past twelve years that he had a tongue that was sharp and acidic; hot enough to burn the edges of a person's sanity. Depending on what the circumstances turned out to be, really James couldn’t blame Winter for arguing with him, especially - and this was most likely the case - if Qrow had been the one to instigate it.

Physically fighting him, on the other hand, was taking it a step too far.

As the elevator finally finished its assent and came up to Ozpin’s floor, James realized he could hear Winter through the doors. She was speaking calmly to someone, and it gave him hope that maybe the matter had been resolved. The elevator opened quietly a second later, and as he peered into the room James could see Ozpin sitting behind his desk, Winter and Qrow in the chairs across from him. Their arms were stretched forward as if they were about to shake hands, and James sighed with relief, feeling a great deal of tension leaving his shoulders. If they were making up, that meant things weren’t as bad as they-

Suddenly Qrow jerked his hand back. “Psych, too slow ice queen,” he said cockily.

Scratch that.

 _They were_ **_worse_ ** _._

Winter stood up, enraged. “That’s it!” she shouted, grabbing the front of Qrow’s shirt front and pulling him upwards as she spat in his face. “ _You’re dead meat!_ ”

She pulled her wrist back, getting ready to punch him, but James shouted, startling her.

“Schnee! _That’s_ **_enough_**.”

Winter’s head snapped in the general’s direction, and her face turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. She immediately let go of Qrow - who fell back in his seat with a loud grunt - and stood at attention, her face carefully blank. “General Ironwood, sir,” she said.

“Hey Jimmy,” Qrow drawled, earning an eye twitch from Winter as she struggled to stay composed.

James felt his anger spiking, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he forced it to sit in his chest. As Qrow smirked knowingly at him, it tried to claw its way upwards; threatening to break his control, but he kept it firmly chained down. “Branwen,” he said in acknowledgment as he stepped closer, not even looking at him.

He had eyes only for Ozpin.

The headmaster hadn’t moved from his spot once, simply sipped his coffee as he sat behind his desk, watching them all. Once James was standing next to Winter and Qrow, however, he set the mug down and knotted his hands together on top of the glass surface. “General,” he greeted calmly. “If you would please excuse Ms. Schnee, I’d like to have a word with both you and Qrow in private.”

James nodded. “Winter, go to your team. I will speak with you later.”

Winter winced at his tone, then nodded. She moved to head to the elevator, but paused and turned around to look at Qrow one last time. He had a finger in is ear, and she made a disgusted noise at the back of her throat, blanching. Qrow noticed and narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want some?” he asked, waving his finger in the air at her.

Winter’s fists trembled with fury at her sides. “You, _disgust_ me,” she hissed at Qrow, storming off to the elevator.

“That’s right Ice Queen, we all discussed you at length and we all think you’re disgusting!” the huntsman shouted after her.

The specialist in training whirled around and began storming back, but at James’ less than patient look Winter growled and turned around again. She entered the elevator, pushing the button a bit more firmly than one might consider necessary, and crossed her arms as she glared at the huntsman one last time. After the doors finally slid shut, Qrow chuckled.

“That’s a Schnee for you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Always got an icicle up their ass’s."

James growled, finally turning to face Qrow. “Winter is  _nothing_ like her father, Branwen,” he snapped. “And if you insinuate she’s anything like him ever again, I’m going to start comparing you to Raven.”

Qrow leaped to his feet, his lips curled back in a snarl, but Ozpin spoke, making them both start in surprise; having almost forgotten the headmaster was even in the same room as them.

“That’s enough you two,” he said patiently. “While I am disappointed with your behavior towards Miss Schnee, Qrow, we have much more pressing matters to discuss.”

James stared at him incredulously. “Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait, Ozpin,” he began, trying and failing to keep his irritation out of his voice. “You can’t just ignore that Branwen-”

“I think you’ll find I can do whatever I wish in my school and in my office,” Ozpin snapped, cutting him off sharply.

James actually took a step back; shocked. Ozpin rarely raised his voice, much less speak in anything other than a calm, placating tone. Out of the corner of his eyes, James noted that Qrow looked equally surprised; concern quickly filtering in.

“Everything okay, Oz?” the huntsman asked carefully.

Ozpin sighed, fingering his cane tightly. “No,” he said, standing up. He walked to the window behind his desk, stopping just in front of the glass.

“Dorothy is _dead_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone want to guess who 'Damion' is? *eyebrows waggling*
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed chapter one and are excited for chapter two. In the meantime, I'll see you in the comments section. Don't forget to kudos!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A funeral is held, teammates are reunited, and angry words are spat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Wow, chapter two (it took for fricken-EVER!). Chapters 3-5 are nearly complete, so they should be up sooner than this one was, thank God. I still can't believe it's been almost a year since I first started writing. I'm at over 7,000 reads now when I combine all my works, and it's... it's just incredible. 
> 
> Thank you for the love and support, I hope you all keep enjoying this fic. It's definitely turning into one of my favorite works.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! This is, like, my third favorite holiday. Have fun and stay safe tomorrow tonight everyone!

The words were said quietly, but they felt like a physical blow.

James reached a hand out behind him blindly until he found the back of a chair, using it to support himself. After another moment, where Ozpin’s statement wasn’t amended or elaborated on, he sat down, hard, and was shocked that the piece of furniture didn’t break under his weight. His mind was reeling, and James tried desperately to process what Ozpin had said. Dorothy Gale, the headmaster of Haven Academy, one of the greatest huntresses the world had ever known…

Was  _dead?_

“How!?” Qrow shouted, slamming his hands on Ozpin’s desk. “How is she dead? What happened? Why-”

“It was  ** _her_** ,” Ozpin hissed, whirling around to face them. His face was contorted with rage, and James could swear he felt energy cracking in the air, as if the headmaster was only just barely keeping his powers under control. “The Council's believe Dorothy simply died of old age, but I have seen the evidence.” His face fell, and James watched as the Ozpin leaned heavily against his cane. “It was Salem,” he whispered. “ _Salem killed my daughter_.”  

 

 

“The Warrior King of Vale gave the world a great many things,” Ozpin said solemnly. “Peace, freedom of emotion, a chance for Humans and Faunus to grow ever closer in eradicating the Grimm once and for all. But I don’t think anyone present here today can disagree with me when I say that one of the greatest things he ever gave us was his daughter, Dorothy.”

As one the people sitting in the room looked at the urn that contained Dorothy’s ashes. She had wanted to be cremated, according to her will. _I will return to the ashes from which man came_ , _and hope that I go somewhere over the rainbow,_ were her exact words. James had felt something rise in his throat when he had read that, an emotion he couldn’t afford to acknowledge. Dorothy had been a very dear friend to him, mostly in part because it had been Ozpin who had introduced them. She had been very kind and encouraging, and had given James a great deal of guidance as he first began leading the entire nation of Atlas.

Imagining a world without her, was next to impossible.

It had taken almost a month to set up the funeral, almost more so because they had needed to tell people slowly, carefully, lest they risk widespread panic and negativity; drawing Grimm to populated areas in hordes. James had even gone to a few people personally, making sure they weren’t anywhere near areas with Grimm as he told them about Dorothy’s passing. Most of them had accepted it calmly, but there had been the awkward few who had burst into tears and had needed a moment alone. James hadn’t realized until then just how cold he came off, seeing as how none of them sought comfort from him. He kept reminding himself during those moments that he needed to be that way, that just because they were in areas where Grimm were supposedly scarce did not mean they were safe. He had to stay strong and alert, watch for danger as his colleges pulled themselves together. Now though, in the heavily guarded council hall in Mystral, he let his guard down, knowing that people could now safely mourn together for their teacher, headmaster, friend…

 _Family_.

James heard a quiet sniffle, and he glanced to his left. Ruby Rose, Qrow’s niece, was clutching her father Taiyang as she cried. Her face was buried in his shirt, muffling her tiny sobs, and James watched as the girl’s father and her older sister, Yang, tried to console her.

‘ _That’s right,_ ’ he thought. ‘ _Dorothy is-_ ’ he winced, chiding himself. ‘ ** _Was_** _, Ruby’s godmother._ ’

When they had both still been alive, Dorothy was very close to Ruby’s mother, Summer Rose. The young woman had been Dorothy’s prized pupil, but, if James was recalling the conversation Glynda had had with him correctly, an argument between the two of them had made Summer decide to attend Beacon instead of Haven when she had come of age. In later years, however, they had managed to mend the bridge between themselves, right around the time Summer was pregnant with her daughter. Besides Ozpin, the only family Dorothy had really had was Summer’s, and the same held true for the Xiao Long's, what with Raven being who she was, and Qrow…

Well, James had never seen Qrow interact with his nieces, but he had been told that while the Huntsman wasn’t the best role model, he was a loving uncle. He supposed it was possible, but honestly, he couldn’t fathom Qrow being a family person.  

Looking back towards the podium, James realized Ozpin had finished speaking and was stepping down, allowing a few students and staff to come and say a few words. Their eyes met, and James blinked his own tears back as he watched a few trickle down the headmaster’s cheeks. Before Dorothy’s death, James had never seen the man so emotional. It made something, not his heart, he didn’t have one, clench in his chest, and the general bit his cheek, trying desperately to hold back the storm of emotions bubbling within him. He almost stood up to exit the hall for a moment, but then the next speaker began addressing the room, and something about their voice made James pause. They sounded familiar, and he stared at the man now talking into the microphone. Was, was that-

“Good afternoon,” the man began, a tail swishing around his legs nervously. “As many of the staff and students here know, my name is-”

 _Damian_ , James’ mind supplied, reeling from shock. He hadn’t seen the man since graduation; had lost all form of contact with him soon after investing himself fully in his new role as the leader of Atlas. The last he heard, Damian was a teacher at Shade, hiding the fact he was a Faunus from his coworkers and students. What in the four kingdoms was he doing here - with his tail exposed!?

“When I met Dorothy two years ago, I never imagined just how dramatically she would change my life. Giving me a position at her school, one where I could freely be who-” He hesitated for a moment, then brought his tail up, showing it to his audience with what James could swear was…

 _Pride_.

“And what I am. This has hardly been easy for me, and to be quite honest, if it weren’t for the fact that Dorothy had threatened to come back from the dead and slap me if I didn’t give her a eulogy, I probably wouldn’t be standing before all of you.”

A few people laughed, and James wondered briefly if Dorothy had actually done that at some point.

“But at this point, I must admit I’m horrible at writing these types of things, so I’ll make the rest of this brief. Dorothy will most certainly be missed, and I hope and pray to the Gods that whoever takes her place as headmaster will follow by her example, and will continue to make both Human and Faunus students alike feel safe in these walls, just as she did. I will miss her dearly, and I hope that wherever her soul is resting, it is at peace. Thank you.”

James found himself rising to his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He began clapping loudly, not even caring that his prosthetic hand made a metallic sound as he did so. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ozpin and Glynda follow suit, then Taiyang and his daughters. Soon, everyone assembled in the room was applauding for Damian, and James smirked as Faunus flushed under the attention, fiddling with his tail nervously. Once the applause had died down James sat again, and he glanced over at Ozpin. The headmaster was staring at him, and they shared a knowing look. There was no doubt in James’ mind that Ozpin was thinking the same thing he was, and it brought a smile to his face.

They had found their man.

 

 

“ _Me?_ ” Damion squeaked. “You, y-you think that I-I should be the n-n-new headmaster!?”

“Yes,” Ozpin said, smiling gently at the man panicking in front of him.

Honestly, Damian looked like he was going to pass out from shock, and James had to repress a chuckle. He had forgotten just how easily flustered the Faunus could become, and this was one of the best reactions James had ever seen. He, Damian, Ozpin, and Glynda were all in Dorothy’s old office, after having Damian ask them to come collect belongings Dorothy had left them all in her will, and Ozpin had decided to use that moment to tell Damian they wanted him to be the new headmaster.

“B-But, I’m a-”

“A top graduate from Atlas Academy, _with honors_ , I might add, and an already experienced teacher whom the students here clearly respect,” Ozpin cut in, watching critically as Damian sank heavily into one of Dorothy’s guest chairs.

“Not to mention the fact you’re a Faunus may very well be a benefit rather than a downfall,” Glynda said. “The White Fang are beginning to grow restless, and tensions among humans and Faunus’s have been running high. Having a Faunus at the head of one of the Huntsman Academy’s might very well be just what we need.”

“And if it’s not?” Damion demanded sharply, his eyes bright with panic. “If this only brings even more hate to my kind, to _me_ , what then?”

James frowned at the visible tremble in the man’s hands and reached forwards to place his own over them. “Damian-”

“Don’t touch me James!” he shouted. An instant later Damian winced. “I mean, general Ironwood.” He stood back up, sighing resignedly. “Look, I’m sorry, but you clearly have the wrong person.”

With that, he fled out of the office, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Glynda sighed after a long moment. “That could have gone better,” she muttered.

“Indeed,” Ozpin said. “James, you know him best out of all of us. Perhaps you should try speaking to him in private?”

James nodded. “I’ll go look, I’m sure I can find him.”

James couldn’t find him.

He had somehow forgotten that during his academy days, Damion would often hide to avoid the people who oppressed him. He would go missing for hours, and oftentimes not even Damian's own partner could find him. And after searching the east end of the school bottom to top, James could only come to the conclusion that he was still too good at hiding, or had left the building entirely. The general groaned in frustration, entering an elevator so he could return to the first floor.

Where in Remnant could Damion have gone-

“Hold… _hic_ … the door!”

James looked up and he froze, his mouth falling open in shock. He watched in disbelief as Qrow staggered past him into the elevator, raising a hand to push the button for the first floor. At the last moment though he lost his balance, and James felt his eye twitch as the man’s hand hit  _all of them_.

“Whoopsie!” the huntsman giggled. He smelled horrible, like he hadn’t bathed in days and had used nothing but alcohol for subsistence. As the doors finally slid shut and the elevator began to descend, James finally pulled himself from his daze. “Qrow?” he asked incredulously.

“Yo-o!” Qrow exclaimed loudly, making James wince at his volume. He squinted at the general with glassy eyes, and James frowned. “Who’s, w-who-”

Qrow’s voice had a notable slur to it, getting thicker with each syllable the huntsman spoke, and James gasped as he began to fall forward. He barely caught the man, who curled into James’ chest with a sigh. “Qrow!?”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” Qrow said. He squinted up at James, tilting his head to one side. “Oh, is that you general? I thought you were a paladin playing dress up.”

James gritted his teeth, pushing the intoxicated huntsman off of him. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “I thought you were still searching for Miss Lilven.”

Dorothy had been the only one that knew the current location of the Winter Maiden, Carmen Lilven. She was a bright young woman James had only ever met once. He had been quite impressed by her determination despite knowing the risks of being a Maiden. Soon after that fateful day in Ozpin’s tower, Ozpin had sent Qrow to try to find her, and none of them had heard from the Huntsman since.

Qrow shrugged his shoulders, swaying a little as he lost his balance again. “Oz’s lead was a dead end.”

James blinked. “It was a dead end?” he asked incredulously, not even bothering to try to hide the doubt in his voice.

“That’s what I said,” Qrow muttered. The elevator doors opened on the third floor, closed, and continued it’s agonizingly slow trek down. “I flew here as… _hic_ … quick as I could. Can’t believe I couldn’t find anything.”

A strange emotion flashed in his expression, but James couldn’t really bring himself to care. Instead, he scoffed, shaking his head. “You were probably too drunk to really know what you were doing.”

Qrow snarled, and James gasped in surprise as the huntsman pinned him to the elevator wall. “You  _bastard!_ ” he spat. James tried to push him off, but he gripped James’ shirtfront, slamming him against the cold metal again. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? I have a brain you know.”

“Really?” James asked, feigning innocence. “ _I couldn’t tell_.”

Qrow pulled his wrist back, probably to punch him, but at that moment the elevator door opened again. “Does this elevator go to the first floor?” an elderly woman with thick glasses and a cane asked.

“Yes,” Qrow said, smiling at her sweetly. He reached a hand over without letting go of the front of James’ shirt, pushing a button. The elevator doors slid close, leaving the poor woman sputtering.

“That was cruel,” James chastised as Qrow turned his head back to look at him.

In response, Qrow’s smile sharpened until he looked half-crazed. His eyes took on an almost deadly gleam, and James froze. That wasn’t a completely new look on Qrow, but it was much…  _darker_ than James had ever seen it.

“You would know all about cruel, wouldn’t you, Jimmy? After all, how else do you build a reputation for being the coldest person in all of Atlas?”

James' breath caught in his throat. He needed to say something, to rebuff what Qrow had said with something equally nasty and hurtful. Yet words eluded him. Qrow’s face twisted even more, and at that moment the elevator finally reached their destination. Qrow let go of him and walked out. James didn’t follow, still absorbing the hateful words the huntsman had spat in his face. Qrow then turned around, and as the doors closed shut behind him, he gave James a mock, two-finger salute.

“Until next time, _general._ ”

The doors to the elevator finally finished closing, but James continued to stare.

He didn’t look away for a long time.

 

 

_Five months later_

 

“Damion- I’m sorry,  _Leonardo_ ,” James said, “For the last time, I’m about to speak with Ozpin. I need to hang up.”

James wasn’t kidding, the elevator was nearly to Ozpin’s floor.

 _Alright,_ Leonardo said. _Just, if you have anything else you can tell me about running an academy and this whole,_ ** _Maiden’s_** _business-_

“Not over the scroll!” James hissed. “You never know when _she’s_ listening.”

 _I… yes, of course,_ the Faunus said apologetically. _Alright, I’ll let you go. Goodbye, James._

The general hung up his scroll and stuck it into his coat pocket with a sigh. He had eventually found Damion, that day at the funeral, and had managed to convince him to at least  _consider_ becoming Haven’s new headmaster. A month later, Ozpin asked to meet with the Faunus again, and had told him then and there of the Maiden’s, the vault that laid beneath the school, and the witch who would kill thousands to obtain what was held within it. Now fully aware of Salem and the threat she posed, Damian had readily agreed to help them in their fight against her. He had also finally told James his real name:

Leonardo Lionheart.

As for Qrow, James hadn’t seen him since then. He couldn’t forget that look in his eyes; it haunted him whenever the general had a spare moment to think. Why had he looked that way that day? Was it a combination of his anger towards failing his mission and his sorrow over Dorothy’s passing? Or…

Or had it been something else?

At that moment the elevator doors opened - honestly, the reason why were they becoming such a frequent place for him to have unpleasant thoughts and conversations was beyond him - and James immediately stiffened. The tension in the air was so thick the general swore he could feel his hair stand on end the moment he entered Ozpin’s office, and he couldn’t help but sigh again, wishing that for just  _once_ he could visit Beacon under better circumstances.

Glynda was pacing by one of the window’s, her riding crop held tightly in her hand. She was clearly exhausted, large bags hanging heavily under her eyes, but weariness had always somehow managed to sharpen her edges rather than soften them. Ozpin stood nearby to her, maintaining a safe distance so that she wouldn’t bowl him over. A hand was buried haphazardly in his hair, and James couldn’t help but think he looked impossibly worn out. “Hello, James,” he greeted quietly, not even bothering to glance at him.

That only somehow made James more worried. “What’s wrong?” he asked bluntly. Ozpin seemed hesitant, or was he imagining that?

“I’m not certain if you have noticed, James,” Ozpin began, keeping his focus away from the general, “But Qrow has been behaving… _unusually_ , for the past few months.”

James frowned, wondering where this conversation was going. “How do you mean?”

Glynda paused her pacing, and James thought he saw the grip on her crop tightened minutely. “He’s been putting himself in danger unnecessarily, his drinking has gone up, and his attitude has taken a dip for the worst,” she listed off, anger and concern warring in her tone.

“He’s still grieving for Dorothy, it’s only natural,” James said. He was surprised to realize he only half believed that statement himself.

Glynda snorted, and James winced at how an action so simple from her could make him feel this incompetent and foolish. Ozpin finally turned to look at him, and he and shook his head, a much kinder way of letting James know he was wrong.

“James, I understand you do not hold the highest opinion of Qrow, but this behavior is a bit more… extreme, then I have ever seen from him.”

James frowned, crossing his arms. “So what do you think is wrong?”

 _And why did you have me come all the way to Vale to tell me this?_ he wondered silently. He was missing a staff meeting at Atlas Academy for this and would have only the God’s knew how much paperwork stacked on his desk when he returned to his duties. Just what in Remnant made Ozpin and Glynda think it was okay to pull him away from his multiple duties for something as insignificant as this?

“We believe something happened to him during a mission a few months back, the one he returned from during Dorothy’s funeral,” the headmaster explained. “Glynda and I have tried multiple times to have him speak to us about it, but to no avail.”

"So we think you should try speaking to him," Glynda said.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and even after they did James wondered if he had heard her wrong. There was no possible way she had just suggested something so preposterous as calmly as she did. But after a moment, when her statement wasn’t amended, he turned his head slightly and looked her in the eyes. " _Excuse me?_ " he asked.

“You heard her correctly, James,” Ozpin said. “I realize this is an unusual request, but you are our last resort. Now, I do believe at this time of day you can find him at-”

“Now hold on,” James said abruptly, holding his hands up. “Qrow  _hates_ me,” he said, stating the obvious. “What makes you think he’ll even want to talk to me, much less tell me what’s bothering him?”

Ozpin looked up at him, looking incredibly torn and uncertain. “Qrow has never felt the need to hide anything from myself or from Glynda before,” he murmured, frowning deeply. “I’ve gone as far as to speak with Taiyang about the issue, to see if Qrow has relented any information to him about whatever happened, but not even he has managed to get any headway with him.” Ozpin swallowed. “I’m afr- _very_ concerned about him,” he admonished, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

James’ eyebrows shot up.

 _Afraid_.

Ozpin had been going to say  _afraid_.

Ozpin, Ozpin was… 

**_Scared._ **

“But why _me?_ ” James stressed quietly, the newfound dread in the room threatening to choke him. “Why do you think that he’ll talk to me when you yourself can’t get anywhere with him?”

Ozpin looked him dead in the eye, and if not for James’ experience as a diplomat, it would have been impossible to keep staring into those swirling green orbs of secrets; truths no one ever wanted to know the answers to.

“Because if anyone understands what it means to suffer, it’s you, James.”

James clenched his prosthetic hand unconsciously. An ache, sharp and white, suddenly spread from his metal side to his real one, making him wince in discomfort. He wanted to be upset that his prosthetics were the reason why Ozpin wanted him to talk to Qrow, but he had to admit the headmaster had a point. He did know what it meant to feel pain, to isolate himself in his grief in torment. And if Ozpin really thought something similar was happening to Qrow, did he really have any right to say no?

“James?” Glynda murmured, sounding surprisingly gentle.

James sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face.

“ _Where can I find him?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it?
> 
> Don't forget to smash that Kudos button, and, honest to goodness, PLEASE comment. I enjoy both compliments and/or critical feedback (also, if you have a prompt I'd be happy to hear it and look into it when I have time!)
> 
> Read ya later!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back everybody!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience. Enjoy!!!

Days passed in their usual rhythm, or at least as usual as one Qrow could manage. His routine looked a little something like this:

Wake up, force himself out of bed, get a drink from his still, eat a light breakfast, and train. Once he was done he’d have another drink, meet with Ozpin to discuss the Maiden’s and Salem, and then, if he had time, Qrow would call Taiyang to check up on him and the girls. Next, he’d typically drink some more ‘till the point of blacking out. After that, if his body was too tired to let him avoid it, he’d sleep.

Then, repeat - usually with even more drinking than the previous day.

Today though, he had forced himself to leave his shitty apartment, to go out and… well, get drunk on something that wasn’t his own swill. Not that the drinks at this particular bar were any better. He suspected it was watered down, but he honestly didn’t give a damn, so long as it numbed everything. It wasn't doing a really great job of accomplishing that, mind you, but still. Anything was better than just letting his thoughts and emotions boil over.

His foot still bounced sporadically under the counter he sat at, accompanied by the sound of tapping fingers on the wooden surface. Even after spending two hours training, his body was still a tight coil; a ticking time bomb just waiting to implode. Qrow forced himself to calm and he sighed in frustration.

Ozpin hadn’t sent him on a real mission in weeks, which should have been a relief. Should have. He was fucking tired of always standing at the edge of death’s door or having to snatch one of his - albeit dwindling list of - friends from it, but sitting around with nothing to do only set him on edge. Why wasn’t Oz having him do something? This was a fucking waste of his talents. Not to mention if he stayed in his apartment for much longer, his semblance was bound to make him break all the furniture he had before the week was even up.

On the other hand, if Ozpin wasn’t giving him all this free time, he wouldn’t have been able to save Ruby and Yang.

He swallowed a round lump in his throat. He still couldn’t believe the girls had almost gotten themselves killed less than a month ago. Chasing after Raven, no less.

He growled softly, tightening his hold on his drink. Apparently, Yang had found that photograph - why the hell had Tai left it in a place that the girls could reach was a damn mystery to him - then getting it into her head to find her mother. She had left the house at Gods fucking sunset with Ruby in tow, and had very nearly gotten them both mauled by a pack of Beowolf’s. If Qrow hadn’t shown up when he did…

He shuddered at the thought. How his sister still managed to make his life a living hell, even when she was hundreds of leagues away, was a damned conundrum to him. How could she not have seen distancing herself from her family would hurt them more than help? Qrow understood completely Yang’s need to know what kind of a person her mother was, and Gods knew that if Tai hadn’t made him swear to silence, Qrow would have told her long ago where his sister was.

 _Maybe when she’s older_ , he thought. So long as he didn’t think she’d just up and abandon her family. It wasn’t really his fear as much as it was Tai’s, seeing as how Qrow had always known that Raven had too much free spirit to just settle down. He wasn’t exactly shocked when she’d left the way she did. Tai, on the other hand, had been devastated. Qrow could tell he was worried that Yang would grow to be the same; that she would abandon them out of hate and spite. Qrow had to admit that there was so much of his sister in that little firecracker that he felt exceedingly poleaxed every time he saw her, so he couldn’t really blame Tai for worrying, for wanting to just bury the past and help Yang to be better than her mother ever was. But Qrow knew that Yang had her father’s heart through and through, that there was no way she would do something so horrible to her family.

Horrible.

Why does anyone do horrible things?

Cause pain, hurt people on purpose and make them suffer.

Why had he been-  

Qrow inhaled sharply, throwing back his drink. The alcohol barely burned his throat, hardly added warmth to his chest. Sighing, he flagged the bartender over and ordered another. Once it was in his hand, he paused, thinking. It was obvious Oz was worried about him; everyone he was close to was, really. But they never pushed the subject, and Qrow thought that, for the most part, they believed him when he said he was just still grieving for Dorothy.

Glynda was the only one who looked at him like he was full of shit.

Mmm, no, that wasn’t quite right. Ozpin and Tai clearly knew he was full of shit too, but they weren’t in the habit of aggressively confronting him about his bullshit, much to his relief. Glynda was scary enough, thank you very much.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. Ever since… _that_ , had happened, he felt like he was perpetually stuck feeling doggone tired. Not to mention the headaches. They always snuck past the edges of his drunken brain and found a way to remind him of the pain he had to endure that horrible day. He winced as memories flash through his mind, images that wouldn’t, couldn’t be erased by anything. Not even a bottle of booze.

Shackles.

A syringe containing dark liquid.

Electricity, bright, _excruciating_ , dancing across his body.

_A cup of tea…_

The clinking of ice in his glass brought him slowly back to reality, and he growled annoyance as he realized his hand was shaking. Again.

Setting his drink down carefully, Qrow took a deep breath, trying to will the tremors away. He’d learned in the past few weeks that his shakes would leave, to still his hands, was to think about something else. Anything else. He hated it, but there wasn’t much else he could do. And - without meaning to - he turned his thoughts back to Raven, to the last time he had seen her.

It had been the day Ozpin had told them everything, had given them their powers. Raven had been about a month pregnant with Yang; not that Qrow had known about it at the time. He wasn’t sure Raven had known either. Maybe things would have been different if she had…

 _We have what we need,_ Raven had said. _It’s time for us to leave._

The instant they were out of Ozpin’s office, Raven had insisted on returning to their tribe, but Qrow had wanted to stay. After everything Ozpin had told them, he wasn’t willing to abandon his new friends; Tai, Summer, nor all of the innocent people that Salem could potentially hurt if she succeeded in her plans. The siblings had fought about it for hours, but, eventually, Raven became fed up with him and had just left. No one had seen her since, and the only time she had made her presence known again when she had dumped a newly born Yang on Tai’s doorstep.

He stared down at his hands, not even seeing them as he thought about what had happened to him all those weeks ago. Had Raven been right? Should he have left with her all of those years ago? Had it been a mistake?

 _You’ll regret siding with him,_ **_brother_** _._

“No!” he hissed quietly, clenching his hands into fists, refusing to finish that thought. No matter what had happened to him, it didn’t change the fact he did this to keep his family safe, something Raven would never understand.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” he whispered desperately, trying to ignore the way his hands were starting to shake. “I’ll be okay. I just gotta keep going, and I’ll be okay. It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay…” he trailed off, still murmuring softly to himself as he tried not to shudder.

It had to be.

“It’ll be okay, _I’ll be okay-_ ”

“Qrow?” a voice spoke suddenly.

Jumping from his chair Qrow whipped around quickly with his fists raised, ready to fight whoever had snuck up on him. He blinked and stared uncomprehendingly at the man in front of him, whose hands were raised up to show he wasn’t a threat. “Jimmy?” Qrow asked, completely gobsmacked.

The man looked really uncomfortable, eyeing the other people in the bar warily, but more than anything he was looking at Qrow with… concern?

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Qrow blinked. Just what was he doing here in a place like this?

Pushing his confusion aside, Qrow flashed the general a quick smile; sharp and bitter. “Well well well,” he drawled as he leaned sideways against the bar counter, ignoring the man’s question. “If it isn’t General Iron-britches himself, _gracing_ us all with his holy presence!” He grabbed his drink and raised it in a mock toast, then downed half of it in one go before slamming the glass back down with a loud thud.

He felt a moment of vicious satisfaction from the irritated look the general gave him, but he hadn’t done it to be disgusting. He needed it. Whatever the reason Ironwood was here, more likely than not, Qrow wasn’t going to like it. At all. Which meant Qrow was probably going to need another drink…  

Instead of the expected reaction, a pathetic threat to his life or a snarled insult, Ironwood merely sighed resignedly. “You truly hold no respect for the military, do you?”

Qrow blinked, then rolled his eyes, refusing to be shaken by how unusually calm the man was behaving. “Look, Jimmy,” he said slowly, sitting back down, “The only thing G.I. about me is my athlete's foot. I pride myself on that.”

“It’s James,” Ironwood said tensely, wincing Qrow’s joke.

“Whatever,” Qrow said, his smirk broadening. Ah unprofessionalism, how it made the general twitch. “So, why’re you here? Does Oz need somethin’?”

“No,” James said, “I wanted to speak with you.”

Shock flitted over Qrow’s features before he could school his face into a mask of disinterest. “You  _wanted_ to talk to me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously. “What kind of meds are you on Jimmy?”

“It’s James,” Ironwood said again. The edge to his voice was firm, but Qrow could detect a spark of frustration beginning to build behind it.

“Right, got it Jimbo,” Qrow said. “Anyways, how can I assist your general-ness?”

At that the general paused. “I, I’m here to…” the man trailed off, looking torn.

Qrow took pity on him and gestured to the stool next to his. “Sit your tin can down Jimmy, I’m likely to get an ulcer if you keep acting like that.”

“Acting like what?” Ironwood asked defensively.

“Like you have a Grimm in your pants. C’mon, take a load off.”

The general gave him an exasperated look, but after a few moments took the offered chair, and asked the bartender for a whiskey on the rocks. It was given to him a minute later, and both men just sat there, sipping their drinks. After another few beats of loaded silence passed by and nothing happened, Qrow bit the inside of his cheek, trying his best not to squirm. This wasn’t the first time he and Ironwood had been alone together, but it was the first time they were alone by choice.

Usually, whenever the circumstances were unfortunate enough for them to be stuck alone together, it was because they were waiting for Ozpin to come speak with them. They probably wouldn’t have even known each other if not for the several times over resurrected headmaster. After all, Qrow was just another huntsman. Ironwood was the leader of an entire nation. The only times they ever even saw one another in passing, was because Ozpin had wanted to talk to them about something significant that was related to the safety of Remnant. So to sit together for more than five minutes without the weight of some sort of disaster hanging over their heads was… awkward, to say the least.

Not to mention the way Ironwood was watching him out of the corner of his eyes was horrifically uncomfortable; full of assessment and judgment. Qrow bristled as the man’s gaze bored into him, trying not to lash out. He had experienced this look a lot in his life, usually followed after by a rather unwelcomed criticism of how he should behave, or present himself, or some other Grimm shit he didn’t give a damn about. Who the fuck cared if he behaved the way he did? He saved lives, and was pretty damn good at it too. What did he owe to anyone? Why should he listen when people told him to act differently? After all...

He had already given the world a hell of a lot more than he had ever wanted to.

James frowned as he watched something unsettling sink into Qrow’s expression. He sighed, deciding to get to the point. “Would you care to take a walk with me?”

Qrow stiffened and turned his head to look at him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. After a moment he paused dramatically, rubbing his chin with fake thoughtfulness. “Would I care to? Hells no. Will I?” Qrow smirked. “ _No_.”

James bristled, starting to get annoyed with the huntsman's behavior. “Qrow-”

“Keep your shirt on Jimmy, I was joking.”

Ironwood’s jaw clenched, betraying an undercurrent of barely contained anger, and Qrow watched with delight as his eye twitched. After a minute though the general sighed resignedly. “You do that a lot,” he muttered.

Qrow made a non-committed noise and took another swig, finishing his drink. He had no idea where this - whatever this, was - was actually going, but he didn’t especially care what exactly the man wanted. That meant the more old scores he could rile up to piss him off, the better.

Qrow shoved some Lien onto the counter and stood up, walking out of the bar as quickly as he could. Better to get this over with soon rather than later. Glancing behind him, the huntsman smirked as he watched Ironwood trip over himself trying to catch up. Qrow found it oddly adorable. A big, imposing man like that slipping the way he just did?

He chuckled quietly under his breath. Too funny.

As they stepped out of the building, Qrow glanced up at the darkening sky, frowning. _Looks like we're in for some rain,_ he thought. _With my luck, it’ll end up being a big ass thunderstorm that’ll leak into my apartment. Fan-fucking-_ _tastic_ _._

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying not to outright stare at the man walking beside him. “So,” he asked aloud, gesturing around them with his hand. “Come to this corner of Vale often?”

Ironwood shook his head. “Not really, no. Although Glynda has brought me fairly close before, to a restaurant that I can’t quite remember the name of. I believe it had something to do with shoes.”

Qrow snorted. “ _The Ruby Slippers_ , of course she has,” he said, chuckling.

The general glanced at him in surprise. “You know it?”

“Yeah. It’s Glynda’s favorite place to eat, she’ll use friends as an excuse to go there any chance she gets. Me and Oz are her usual targets, but it doesn’t surprise me that she dragged you there.”

A smile quirked at the corners of Ironwood’s mouth. “In her defense, they do serve very excellent fish and chips.”

“True, and I fucking love their chocolate pie,” Qrow said, smiling back. It fell from his face a heartbeat later, and he turned his head away quickly, feeling suddenly very interested in the flowers growing next to the sidewalk.

What the heck was he doing? This was Ironwood he was talking to. Not Tai, not Oz, Ironwood. Since when did he not feel like gagging every time he was within even a foot of the man? He redefined Buzzkill and Control Freak in new ways every time Qrow talked to him, and yet, here they were, walking down the street as if they were friends, and Qrow was… _enjoying it?_

He cleared his throat. “So,” he began, hedgingly, “You said you wanted to talk to me about somethin’. Shoot.”

Ironwood seemed to have picked up on the shift in his tone, and he nodded. “Alright, I’ll get to the point. You’ve been behaving erratically Qrow, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Qrow felt his face twist into a scowl. “Excuse me?” he asked lowly, slowing his walk marginally and turning his head to give Ironwood a very pointed eyebrow.

The general winced, matching him in pace. He lowered his voice, his tone much gentler as he spoke again. “That came out wrong. What I meant to say was, Ozpin has grown concerned that you haven’t been behaving like yourself recently, and-”

“Relax Iron-Britches,” Qrow cut him off, putting his arms behind his head in what hoped and prayed to the gods looked like a relaxed and carefree gesture. “Ozpin is just a big worry wart, I’m totally fine.”

He was most definitely not fine, but like hell's he was going to let Ironwood of all people know that.

 _What the actual fuck Oz!?_ he thought as he fought to not let his panic show in his face.

Ironwood regarded him silently for a moment before responding, softly, “Do you honestly believe that the people who care about you have been blind to how you’ve been behaving, Qrow? That they don’t worry, or as a result don’t do everything in their power to find out what’s wrong?”

Qrow frowned at the general. Just what was the man getting at?

He looked into those ice blue eyes, searching, and was struck suddenly by a wave of absolute terror.

 _He knows_ , Qrow thought, panic beginning to burn sharply in his chest, twisting his heart and sending ice into his stomach. _Oh my God’s, he knows. Somehow Oz found out and now he knows! He knows that-_

Suddenly, his shoe caught on something, and Qrow gasped as he found himself flailing forwards. Images of hitting the pavement face first flashed before his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, bringing his hands forward too late…

But at the last second, to Qrow’s shock, a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist and shoulders, saving him from kissing the ground.

After he had gotten over the initial shock, Qrow glanced behind his shoulder. “Thanks for the save, Jimmy.”

Ironwood was staring at him almost dazedly, hugging Qrow tightly to his chest, and something in the man’s expression made the huntsman swallow harshly.

 _Oh,_ he thought rather stupidly. Qrow definitely knew that look.

“...Jimmy?” he tried again, still not getting a reaction. “Remnant to General Ironwood, you can let go of me now.”

The man’s cheeks turned a dark red. He quickly let go of Qrow and took a step back, muttering apologies. Normally having someone blush like that because of him would have selfishly stroked Qrow’s ego, but for some bizarre reason, it made every thought in his head flatline. He felt a blush gracing his own features, and Qrow bit his tongue to keep from making an embarrassed noise. General Ironwood, as in general Jimmy, James Ironwood, the stoniest - and who Qrow had assumed to be the straightest - man he knew, was blushing because of him. Him, of all people.

Qrow had always found the man attractive, despite his uptight attitude. Tall and muscular was his preference in men, and the general looked like he could crush him if he wanted to, enhanced prosthetic limbs aside. He also had features so chiseled they looked fake, and Qrow knew could spend hours just staring them. Not to mention that, because of his bird side, Qrow tended to feel drawn to shiny things, and he had always enjoyed looking at Ironwood’s metallic eyebrow. It glittered when the sun hit it just right, and sometimes it took all of Qrow’s self-control not to shapeshift and perch on the general’s head to get a closer look.

Qrow also sometimes caught himself staring at the white patch of hair almost hidden is the general's dark locks. The general kept insisting it wasn’t from age, but rather from being a second cousin to the Schnee’s. Qrow loved it either way, loved imagining running his hands through it, feeling how soft it was compared to the rest of the man’s hard posture. And those amazing blue eyes. Qrow loved the way crows feet would gather at the corner of them, drawing together when Jimmy was frowning in concentration, or when, on the rare occasion, he was laughing-

“Qrow?”

Qrow bit his cheek, cursing himself for letting his thoughts drift like that. “M’fine,” he assured the general, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. “So, what was that you were saying before I played swooning maiden?”

“I was saying that everyone knows your upset about something and that both Glynda and Ozpin wanted me to try talking to you to figure out what it was.”

Qrow stared at him for a long time, long enough that Ironwood began to shift uncomfortably. Then, so suddenly that it shocked even himself, Qrow began laughing. The general started in surprise, and Qrow only laughed harder.

Oh thank the fucking gods, Ironwood didn’t know. _He didn’t know!_

All the tension from the past week came spilling out, and Qrow realized he must look hysterical, maybe even mad, but he couldn’t help it. He was just so fucking relieved!

“What am I missing here?” Ironwood asked as Qrow finally calmed down, still wheezing, but not enough to cause a scene.

“Oh, just the part of your brain that functions properly,” Qrow quipped between giggles as they started walking again, not putting any real venom into the words. At the less than amused look he got, the Huntsman just snickered and took his flask out of his jacket, taking a long swig from it.

God’s, his life was so tremendously fucked up.

Ironwood stiffened, eyeing Qrow’s flask with disgust. “Seriously?” he asked, pausing mid-stride. “You literally  _just_ came out of a bar. Do you really need more?”

“Last time I checked, you got one of these too,” Qrow pointed out, raising an eyebrow defiantly. A thought struck him, and the general blinked as Qrow held the flask out to him. “Try it, I promise it’s not poison. Well, at least, not your preferred poison. What do you drink anyways, Jimmy? Whiskey on the rocks just doesn't seem like your go to in my opinion. I bet you like that weird punch made from frozen grapes that you Atlesians call wine.”

Ironwood, much to Qrow’s delight, rolled his eyes but reached for the flask. He eyed it with suspicion for a moment, before wiping the mouth of it with his glove - rude, Qrow wasn’t diseased - took a sip…

And promptly choked, nearly spitting it out. He managed to get it down, and when he looked up he growled, clearly not enjoying the amused look on Qrow’s face. “What in the hell's is this?” he demanded. “ _Turpentine?_ ”

Qrow snickered, shaking his head. “Nope, just a little magical concoction I made from a still.”

“Well it is revolting.”

Qrow shrugged. “It works,” he said, his tone daring the general to say otherwise.

Ironwood looked like he wanted to argue, but after a moment he merely sighed. “It would be unfair of me to say that I don’t understand that statement. I do, however, have alternative means of dealing with my issues. Have you ever heard of Doctor Frank Pol- excuse me, _Frankenstein_ , Polendina?”

The name rang a faint bell, but it rang loud enough that Qrow tensed up, unsure where this conversation was going. “Why?” he asked, frowning.

“He’s a good friend of mine, a scientist in the Atlas military. On top of being the at top of his field in both mechanics and aura studies, he also has a degree in psychology.”

He said it with a matter-of-factness that made Qrow want to tear out his throat. “Why the hell are you bringing this up?” the huntsman demanded quietly, his tone only a few degrees warmer than freezing point.

James faltered. Grimaced. “I-”

Qrow’s voice dropped to a snarl, his teeth bared. “We’re cutting the bullshit off right there. What the actual fuck Ironwood? Why in four kingdoms are you trying to get me a bloody psychiatrist!?”

Ironwood held his hands up in what probably meant to be a placating gesture. “I already told you," he said, "Ozpin is worried. I merely came here to-”

“To what, _interrogate me?_ ”

“No! I only want to help-”

Qrow laughed harshly. “Since when have you ever given a damn about anyone other than yourself Ironwood, much less me? You’ve never cared, so why the fuck would you start now-”

“Enough Qrow!” Ironwood shouted, seething. “Whether you think so or not, you clearly need professional help.”

Qrow clenched his fists tightly, resisting the urge to punch the bastard in the face. “With all due respect, general,” he spat the title, “If anybody needs a shrink, it’s _you_ . After all, who better can help a man with  ** _no heart?_ ** ”

Ironwood took a step towards him, eyes flaring with a kind of rage Qrow desperately wanted. “And what about you, Qrow?” he snapped. “Did you let Summer Rose die with a big heart? Or maybe you just didn’t care enough about her.”

It was as if all of Remnant had gone completely still.

Qrow’s mouth fell open soundlessly, his shock the only thing keeping him from outright killing the man in front of him. His heart pounded heavily in his ears, these words took their toll, every agonizing thump shaking free more and more horrible memories Qrow didn’t want to see from his mind. There wasn’t a single day without his thoughts turning to Summer, about how he had let her down. Her screams echoed in his head every night, tearing everything inside of him to pieces. Memories of her blood-spattered cloak made his hands shake, and he clenched them even tighter. Blood welled up from where his nails dug into his skin, and Qrow felt his vision going red as the general in front of him had the gall to look guilty.

 _How could the man, no, how_ **_dare_  **he _-_

"I'm sorry," Ironwood started, but that was as far as he got before whatever paralysis that had gripped Qrow vanished.

He swung at the man, snarling in outrage when his fist was caught before it could make an impact. “You son of a Grimm!” he shouted. He wrenched his hand out of the general's grip, growling. “Stay the fuck away from me Ironwood, otherwise I can’t be held responsible for what happens to you.”

With that, he stormed off, refusing to look back at the pain he imagined he created in the general's expression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FREEZE! Don't you dare leave without Commenting and Kudosing (Plz?)
> 
> Also, don't forget to check out my other works! I actually posted a chapter for a different fic today as well.  
> Read ya later!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is finally done! And it only took me four months...
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Much like any other time James felt upset, he threw himself into his work.

He had made the trip to Vale rather abruptly at Ozpin’s sudden request, and as a result, a great many matters needed his attention now. Sitting on a rather uncomfortable couch in his hotel room, James was slowly going through everything that had occurred in Atlas and at the Academy the day before. Inbetween the reports he read from Winter, he also signed various forms as he went. He sighed as he wrote his name - in triplicate - on yet another document that, in his opinion, didn’t really require his signature. Surely someone else could authorize an officers club? Qrow would probably think so.

He paused abruptly, scowling. Where on Remnant had that thought just come from?

He set his datapad down and placed his head in his hands, sighing.

Qrow.

Gods, how could James have said what he did to the man? He knew the story of what happened to Summer Rose, and how it had absolutely torn Qrow apart both mentally and emotionally. Yes, the man had been behaving like a child, but James was a diplomat, he shouldn’t have let himself get that angry.

_Stay the fuck away from me Ironwood,_

Those words had hurt him in ways James didn’t want to contemplate when Qrow had spat them at him. So many conflicting emotions had risen up in his chest, clawing at his heart-

He grimaced. Qrow was absolutely right. What heart did he really have? A mechanical monstrosity that pulsed instead of beat could hardly count. All the same, seeing Qrow so upset with him had made something twinge sharply in James’ chest. But now, hours later, James no longer felt bitter or upset. He just felt resigned, and…

_Empty._

Suddenly his scroll went off, making him jump. Reaching for it angrily, he ripped it out of his pocket and brought it to his ear. “ _What?_ ” he snapped, more off-balance then he would care to admit.

 **_James?_** came Glynda’s voice, a perfect blend of offended and concerned.

James flinched. Oh, Grimm spawn…

“Glynda,” he said, “My apologies, I thought-”

 _What happened?_ she demanded, her accusatory tone bleeding through the scroll.

“Nothing!” James immediately responded. “We talked, just like you wanted us to.”

_And nothing happened James?_ **_Nothing?_ **

James winced. Glynda's voice carried a 'do-you-really-think-I'm-that-fucking-stupid' tenor to it, and James knew she was probably already accurately guessing what had occurred. He might love the woman like a sister, but right now he didn't like Glynda very much. “Exactly what I thought would happen,” he bit out a moment later.

He told her everything, not even bothering to avoid telling her the exact words he had spat in Qrow’s face, knowing she was have pressed until he admitted every horrible word.

_So you tried to recommend a psychiatrist to him, and became angered with him when he, very predictably, lashed out at the implication he needed one?_

James sighed. “Yes,” he said quietly, wincing as he heard Glynda’s responding groan of frustration.

 _Well,_ she said tersely, _You’ll just have to try again_. _I’ll forward you his address, and if he isn’t there, there are a few more locations you could try. But with the storm rolling in, I highly doubt he’s not at home._

James was taken aback, and he stood abruptly, gripping his scroll tightly in his hand. “But, but Glynda I couldn’t possibly-”

 _But nothing James,_ Glynda growled. Her voice was rising now, clearly angry. _I don’t care if he transforms into his bird form and shits on your head. You_ ** _will_** _go and apologize to him, immediately!_

There was no arguing when she took that tone of voice. James sighed with defeat, nodding, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “I’ll report back later tonight then,” he said defeatedly.

Glynda gave a noise of confirmation, then hung up. James stared at his scroll for a moment and shook his head. How did he let her rope him into these sorts of things?

The address for the condominium came about a minute later, and James had to resist the urge to groan. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was an endeavor ultimately doomed to fail. He’d crossed a line, and even if he hadn’t Qrow just plain and simply didn’t like him. There was no way the Huntsman was going to listen to him attempt an apology, much less to tell him what was bothering him, no matter what Glynda or Ozpin said. But still, he owed it to both of them to at least make the attempt. So without further ado, James called a taxi with his scroll and sighed as he prepared himself mentally for whatever he would find at Qrow’s apartment.

 

 

 

 _So the Ursa came charging at me, do you remember that?_ _And I just stood there, waiting for it to crush me - or eat me - when a nevermore came out of nowhere and decided to-_

Qrow smiled tiredly as Tai’s voice grew louder and louder, forcing him to hold the scroll away from his ear until his best friend calmed down.

Tai had been rambling on and on about one of their past adventures for a while now, and Qrow found himself letting his mind be washed away in the stream of words, not even really listening to his friend, but just relaxing as Taiyang’s light conversation stole the tension from his body. Qrow could hear his friends lopsided grin over the scroll, and couldn’t help but smile back at it.

“Wait, a Nevermore?” he asked, cutting in. “Last time I checked that was a _duck_ , Tai.”

 _A duck!?_ Taiyang choked. _As if a duck could lift me_ ** _fifty feet_** _in the air, Qrow._

Qrow shrugged even though he knew Tai couldn’t see him. He hoped it translated into his voice. “Alright, a swarm of ducks then,” he conceded in a playful tone. He chuckled as Tai groaned on the other end of the scroll.

 _Gods above,_ he sighed.  _You need to get out of Vale. That city’s making you forget how to tell Grimm apart from common fowl such as yourself._

“Hey! I resent that!” Qrow said indignantly. “I’m the farthest thing from common. In fact, I’m the oyster's pearl, the needle in the haystack-”

_Like that needle you ate that one time?_

Qrow grimaced. “Details Tai, and besides, that was when I first got my powers. I couldn’t really control my _shiny object_ lust back then.”

 _Or your lust in general,_ Tai muttered, earning a choked snort from Qrow. _Speaking of generals,_ Taiyang said slyly, _Remember when you had a crush on Ironwood? One glimpse at his third, metal eyebrow, and I had to sit through you getting all lovey-dubby for like two months!_

Tai laughed at the memory, but Qrow bit the inside of his cheek and ran the hand that wasn’t holding his scroll through his hair. That had been, Gods,  _years_ ago. Before he realized what a dick the man was. Before…

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. After a short stretch of silence, Tai cleared his throat.

 _Bad topic?_ he asked, gently.

“You could say that,” Qrow mumbled, walking over to the window in his small living room. He stared outside, frowning at the gathering storm clouds. Yep, he had fucking called it. Vale was in for one hell of a squall. “Hey Tai,” he said, “Look, a storm’s about to roll in. I’m gonna have to let you go, I need to make sure there aren’t any holes in my ceiling.”

 _Alright,_ Tai said. _Although you know, you could just move back to Patch. The weather here is pretty mild this time of year. Our guest room’s not too cluttered right now; that or one of our neighbors just moved suddenly. I bet you could get their house for a reasonably cheap price._

"Oh my Gods, you are  _such_ a manipulative bastard,” Qrow snicked. “You just want me to move to Patch so you can keep an eye on me, and don't you _dare_ pretend otherwise!”

 _You give yourself too much credit,_ Tai shot back sassily, _I know that no matter where you are you’re going to cause trouble. I was just going to take advantage of the fact I wouldn’t have to pay you to babysit Ruby and Yang._

That earned a short, breathy laugh from Qrow. “How’re they doin’?”

At that, there was a very weighted pause. _Ruby’s still having nightmares,_ Tai said softly, _Although the good news is she’s not waking up crying anymore, and she’ll even play with her Beowolf doll now._ _And as for Yang, well, she…_

Qrow could hear him swallow thickly.

 _Gods, she_ ** _still_** _won’t talk to me,_ he whispered.

Qrow frowned in sympathy. “Give it time, Tai,” he said soothingly. “It’s going to take her a while to let everything’s she’s learned about Raven sink in. She knows she can trust you, I promise she’ll come around.”

 _Like how you are?_ Tai snapped.

Qrow’s breath hitched, and he had to swallow a few times to get his voice working again, right as Tai began a ramble of apologies. “What?” he whispered.

_Qrow, Qrow look, t-that came out wrong, I just think that-_

“There’s  _nothing_ wrong with me,” Qrow spat, cutting his friend off. He could almost hear Tai wincing.

 _I never said there was anything wrong with you,_ he murmured softly, obviously trying to be gentle with what he was saying, but it only made the tension in Qrow’s shoulders increase. _Qrow, you’re not invincible. You’re allowed to be human, despite what you may think at times._

Qrow worried his bottom lip, choosing his next words carefully. “I think you enjoyed the poetry class at Beacon more than you let on," he said teasingly.

 **_Qrow_** _-_

“Don’t  _Qrow_ me." He sighed again. “Tai, honest to the Gods, you can relax,” he said in a more cheerful voice. “Nothing's bothering me.”

Forcing himself to keep his voice light and normal when he felt anything but was never easy, but it was especially hard with Taiyang. The man was the living definition of comfort, and it took every ounce of control for Qrow to not start telling him, to confide in him that…

“I’m fine,” he finally managed, biting his tongue to keep from sighing with relief that his voice came out relatively normal.

A few beats of silence passed. _Alright,_ Tai said, his voice softer now, concerned but still firm. _Just, remember I’m here for you Qrow. You can talk to me if you need to._

His former team mate's words were clearly genuine, but Qrow was still feeling a little too numb to decide if they were comforting or not. Something bitter rose up threateningly in his throat, but he shoved it back down.

“You and I both know I’m too brainless to make good conversation," he managed to joke weakly, if only because Tai was probably expecting him to. It fell flat even to his own ears, and Qrow bit his knuckles as he waited for Tai to respond.

_Loads of people are brainless Qrow, and yet they somehow all can’t stop talking. You’re not dumb, and I wish you would stop implying you are._

At that moment there was a huge crash on Tai’s end of the line, and Qrow winced as the man swore colorfully.

 **_Shit!_  ** _Girls, what did you-_

Another crash followed.

_Qrow, I gotta go, the girls- no, no Ruby, put that down, I, **GIRLS** -_

The call ended, leaving Qrow to stare blankly at his scroll. _That was way too fucking close,_ he thought dimly.

He walked over to one of his beat-up armchairs and sat down, letting out a shaky moan. “Two confrontations in one day, _God’s help me_ ,” he murmured, rubbing a hand down his face. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone!?

He would always get an unsettling lurch in the pit of his stomach that he concealed carefully whenever someone tried to bring up his last mission. _They know!_ his mind would scream at him. Qrow knew they didn't, but the fear was always there. It didn’t help that  _Ironwood_ of all people almost figured it out. Thank the Gods that man’s skull was probably metal prosthetic too, heck maybe he’d gotten a new brain along with everything else.

Qrow sighed again, long and hard. _Ozpin can never know,_ he thought.

Glynda could never know. _Tai_ couldn’t know. James frickin Ironwood could  _suck a_ ** _dick_** before he told him shit!

None of them could ever know.

Know that Qrow now drowned himself in a bottle not because he was trying to banish thoughts of Summer and Raven from his mind, but for far,  _far_ more terrible reasons. It was to quell the rage, the  _fear_.

Qrow would rather  _die_ than tell them he woke up every other night screaming, slamming his fist into the walls hard enough not only to break them but to shatter his aura to a thousand glittering pieces.

Then once he had calmed down, Qrow would always discover that, that he was…

**_Hard._ **

Disgustingly,  _achingly_ hard, his sheets sticky from sweat and precum. He would rush to the bathroom for a cold shower, hands shaking as he forced himself to feel anything but aroused.

How had he been reduced to this?  _Why_ had been brought down like this? He was a disgrace, a fucking failure, and if he wasn’t careful, everyone he cared about would know it too.

 _Shut up,_ he hissed mentally, trying to silence his thoughts.

But the words just wouldn’t stop. Qrow’s self-hate was like acid, it burned everything inside him into dust, swallowed every thought and feeling and reduced it to a bubbling, churning mess in his stomach that threatened to exit Qrow’s body via his mouth in great, _choking_ cries.

Qrow’s chest is heaved with barely suppressed sobs, and he stood up abruptly, snarling at himself. He raked his fingers up and down his arms, scraping at his anxiety until his nails were crusted with blood, but it wasn’t enough. It would  _never_ be enough. The thin scratches on his arms weren’t doing  _shit_ to distract him from what he was feeling on the inside.

He stormed into the kitchen, ripping open one of the drawers under the counter. The silverware clinked together, and he stared down, mesmerized by the shine reflecting from the dim lights. With shaking fingers, he slowly grabbed a knife and bought it to his face, admiring it somewhat dimly. He felt as if he were walking through some kind of thick faze, which wasn’t uncommon after-

“Stop,” he hissed at himself, barely holding back a harsh sob, his bottom lip trembling as he fought to keep the horrible memories at bay. Once he calmed down he examined the knife more carefully. The bird in him preened, satisfied with it. Qrow hummed his approval in turn as he slowly shuffled into his bedroom, eyes never straying from the shining blade.

He walked past his bed and sat himself down on the floor under the window. Qrow leaned back…

And brought the blade of the knife to his arm.

 

 

 

James stared a little dumbly at the building in front of him.

When Glynda had given him the address, he wasn’t sure what to think, now even more so. It was a perfectly nice apartment in a quaint and charming little neighborhood on the west side of Vale. A playground, albeit empty of children, stood beside it, and trees and flowers lined the walks. It was all very picturesque, not at all what James had expected. For some reason, he had thought Qrow would have taken to something less… _domestic_.

He winced, shoving the thought away as he entered through the front entrance. Polendina was right, he was too judgemental.

Qrow lived at the top floor of the apartment, and James opted to take the stairs, despite it being six floors up, trying to walk his tension off. He hoped and prayed to the Gods that this would be quick and that after Qrow inevitably slammed the door in his face Glynda and Ozpin wouldn’t expect anything more from him.

He finished ascending the last flight of stairs and walked down to the end of the hall where Qrow’s apartment was located. His eyebrows drew together quizzically as he stared at the large array of dents in the wood. It was almost as if someone had tripped into the door. Repeatedly.

Raising his hand, James knocked softly before taking a step back, waiting.

Nothing happened.

James frowned, and knocked again, this time little harder. He started in surprise as the door opened with a long  _creeeeeeek_ , realizing that it had never truly been closed to begin with. Frowning, he stepped in, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He was greeted with silence.

“Qrow?” he called out, stepping into what he assumed to be the living room. The smell of takeout and alcohol was oppressively heavy in the air, and James instantly got the impression that he really didn’t want to know what the questionable stains on the carpet were.

“Who’s there?”

James froze, recognizing the voice to be Qrow’s instantly, though it was rough, almost as if he’d been screaming. He stepped cautiously into the next room, flicking on the light switch as he went. He gasped in shock.

Huddled in the corner was a person, hugging their legs to their chest, face pressed down as they shook. James was stunned and it took him a moment to realize who it was.

“Qrow!?" he whispered, a hint of horrified disbelief in his voice. James moved closer, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing. This,  _couldn’t_ be Qrow.

But as those eyes looked up at him, it undeniably was. There was an overwhelming storm of emotions in them, drowned out only by the tears that spilled out and dripped down Qrow’s cheeks, leaving red tear streaks-

Wait, why were they  _red?_

James gasped, dropping down so he was kneeling in front of him. Qrow made a small noise of protest as James gently used his hands to examine him; refusing to meet James’ eyes as stared with disbelief at the Huntsman. “Oh my Gods,” he whispered.

There were shallow cuts on both of Qrow’s arms and wrists, all of them bleeding profoundly. Qrow’s hands were covered with his own blood, smudges splaying across his face from when he had wiped his eyes.

His eyes.

Oh Gods above, his  _eyes_. The blood red orbs were dulled with fear and pain. They looked dead, the spark that made Qrow, _Qrow_ , it was, it was just…

**_Gone_ **

“Qrow,” James finally choked out, “What happened!? Why are you-” he froze, staring at a small, bloody dagger that laid beside the Huntsman. He glanced back up at Qrow’s face, a sickening understanding dawning on him. “ _Qrow_ ,” he whispered, covering his mouth with his hand.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” the huntsman growled in a low voice.

James started, shocked by how sober Qrow sounded. “I, Qrow I don’t understand-”

Qrow chuckled darkly, cutting him off. “ _You don’t understand?_ ” he said, his eyes just barely focusing on James’ face. “Gods, that was the understatement of the century.

James winced.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Qrow asked,  _demanded_ really.

“I… I came to apologize.”

Qrow’s eyes jerked up to James’, his eyes narrowing sharply. “What?”

James sighed, getting more comfortable on the floor. “I hadn’t meant to upset you the way I did, and what I said was inexcusable.”

Qrow opened his mouth to say something, but as he tried to shift slightly he hissed, one of the cuts opening further due to the movement. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped when James reached forward to try to help him. “Get out of my house, Ironwood.”

James shook his head. “Qrow, I can’t just leave you like this-”

“Yes, you can!” Qrow shouted. “You apologized, _now_ _get the fuck out of my house!_ ”

For a moment, James contemplated doing just that. He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, Glynda’s anger be damned. Qrow clearly wanted him to be here even less than James did, and was very adamant that James leave.

And yet…

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not leaving you. I am going to help you, whether you like it or not.”

Qrow’s eyes widened, then narrowed, enraged. James' own eyes stared unblinkingly back at him. They stayed locked in that stare for a long time.

"Knock yourself out," Qrow finally muttered. He frowned as James paused uncertainly. “What?” he asked, annoyed.

“I’d like to move you to the bed,” James explained. May I…”

Qrow blinked as he realized what James was asking, and he lowered his head. “Go ahead,” he said, so quietly that James had to strain to hear him.

James nodded. “Okay,” he murmured. He reached forward and pulled Qrow up from under his shoulders, careful not to touch the man’s arms. Once they were both on their feet, he guided Qrow to his bed and helped him to sit down. “I’ll be right back, he said,” heading into the adjoining bathroom, where, hopefully, he would be able to find some bandages.

“There’s a first aid kit under the sink!” Qrow shouted after him.

James looked, and sure enough, a large metallic box sat next to some towels. He brought it back to the bedroom, ignoring Qrow as the man mumbled random insults about stubborn generals that James pointedly ignored. He sat down so that his flesh side was facing Qrow, placing the first aid kit in his lap. When he opened it and began treating Qrow’s cuts, however, the Huntsman fell uncharacteristically silent. James didn’t press him to talk, instead focusing on treating Qrow’s wounds. The worst of the bleeding was over, and no stitches were necessary. His aura would probably have the worst of it cleared up by tomorrow. It was fairly easy to wrap the Huntsman's arm in the sterilized bandages, what with Qrow… well, he wasn’t helping, but he wasn’t resisting James either.

Meanwhile, Qrow was trying to think of the best way to force the general into silence, and so far was drawing up a blank. There was no way Ironwood would keep this a secret, no matter how much Qrow threatened or pleaded with him. And once Oz and Glynda found out he had been cutting himself, he would never hear the end of it. He wouldn’t tell them why he had been doing it though. Never. He would never, could never, tell them what had pushed him to do that. But there was no way Ozpin would let him go on missions after this.

He was a failure.

A choked whine left his throat before he could stop it, and he turned his head away, hoping that Ironwood would just assume he was in pain. He felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, but the huntsman hardly noticed it.

He had to figure a way out of this mess, which meant he needed to get his shit together and calm the fuck down. He-

That's when he registered the way James’ hand was stroking his back. It was slow and soothing, and Qrow gasped sharply in surprise. James’ hand paused, but then it kept going, tracing the same gentle pattern up and down Qrow’s spine. Qrow’s mind reeled with shock, and he felt new tears slip quietly down his cheeks.

“ _Why?_ ” he whispered.

His voice broke a little over the word, and James could feel the grief in it as if it were his own. He brought his hand higher, up to Qrow’s neck, and rubbed small circles into the nape. “Pain changes you,” he began softly. “It breaks you in ways that go beyond physicalities.”

Taking his hand off of Qrow’s neck, James moved it to his other hand. He swallowed, then slowly removed his glove from his prosthetic hand, frowning as he stared at it. He would never get used to the sight of the metal as it glinted in the light, to the light thrum he could feel humming under the surface of the machinery. James sighed, then, hesitantly, showed his hand to Qrow, watching as the Huntsman's mouth fall open in shock. James grimaced at the expression on Qrow’s face, one he interpreted as equal amounts horrified and disgusted. He began to pull it back, planning to put the glove back on-

But Qrow stopped him, grabbing the metallic wrist. James held his breath as the Huntsman began running his fingers softly over the James’ metallic ones, studying them intently with what now James recognized as fascination, wonder.

“It takes a lot of courage to share that pain, to place yourself in someone else's care and let them see your scars,” James whispered hoarsely. “Especially when you’re still trying to wrap your own head around them.”

Their fingers entwined, flesh and metal tightening around one another.

Reaching out, James placed his free hand on Qrow's shoulder and squeezed it gently, showing in all the ways he couldn’t express verbally that he was there for him. If Qrow even noticed the touch, he didn’t show it. He just held still, unmoving, hardly even breathing.

“Qrow," James said quietly, his voice as soft as his gaze. “ _You can talk to me_."

Qrow finally lifted his head to stare at him, his eyes swirling with hundreds of unidentifiable emotions. Suddenly he sobbed, the sound absolutely  _wrecked_ , and he threw his arm around James, shuddering and wheezing into his shoulder.

James tensed for a split second, shocked. Then, he wrapped his arms slowly around Qrow and held him close, resting his chin on top of Qrow’s head. “It’s okay,” he murmured, rubbing gentle circles into the small of Qrow’s back. “I’ve got you.”

James could feel the way Qrow's chest contracted violently, the man's breath hitching on each choked sob. After a few minutes, he was reduced to simply whimpering quietly, but neither of them made a move to let go of the other. Instead, they stayed in each other's arms, Qrow holding James tightly. The huntsman was beginning to hurt him, his nails digging painfully into James’ flesh shoulder, but he kept his mouth shut as Qrow continued to shudder.

After another minute, Qrow took a deep breath, and he began to talk, softly, at first, then louder and louder as he kept going. Eventually, he burst into tears again, sobbing sharply as he slowly, _painfully_ , told James what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter five is all set, I'm going to be posting it next Friday. Don't forget to subscribe so you stay updated, give it a kudos, and please, please, PLEASE comment (your words bring me such joy) 
> 
> Read ya later!!!


	5. (Trigger Warnings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where things get dark. I do think that if you want to skip this chapter you can, the tags imply what happens if it's too much for the feint of heart.

Qrow groaned gutturally as he woke, feeling as if he'd been struggling to come too for a long,  _long_ time,  ** _for years_** , even, and it bothered him on top of confusing the shit out of him. Hells, Qrow couldn’t even remember falling asleep, let alone getting onto the bed he could feel himself lying on.

He frowned. Something was definitely…  _off_ , for a lack of better wording. He swallowed, hating the unsettling feeling that had wormed its way into his chest. It made him want to scratch his own skin off to stop it from crawling. He tried to shuffle a little on the bed, but to his alarm discovered that he  _couldn’t_. His arms and legs were bound by something, his arms pulled tightly above his head. He brushed his fingers down over the strange material covering his wrists carefully, noting that whatever it was that had him trapped like this, it was cold; metallic.

 _Chains,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully.

Slowly, this whole situation was making him tick off all the little boxes for _‘Qrow, you done fucked up’_ on his mental list of how to fail horribly at being a spy.

Rather than immediately panic, Qrow slowed his breathing and willed his body to relax, not wanting to alert whoever had done this to him that he was awake. It was quiet wherever he was, but that didn't necessarily mean that he was alone. Gods, he wished he could risk opening his eyes and looking for himself, Qrow knew that it was in his best interests to let whoever had done this to him believe he was still out cold.

Of course, they may or may not have any qualms about hurting him in his sleep... 

Qrow breathed deeply in through his nose, and - quietly - out through his mouth, chiding himself mentally. He needed to stay calm, to keep his fear in check until he figured out what exactly was going on. He began searching through his memories desperately for answers. What was the last thing he remembered? Where had he been? Was he even awake, or was this some sort of bizarre dream?

_Or nightmare._

Rather abruptly memories began flooding into his mind faster than he could process them, and Qrow couldn't control his wince. His hangover was making it beyond painful to think, but he forced himself to do it anyway. He needed to know just what in the Hells was going on.

And then, he remembered.

Qrow had gone on a mission for Oz in the bowels of Mystral. It was a bit further than where the headmaster would normally send him, but Qrow was fine with it. Excited, even. He had been working behind the curtain with Oz for years now, and if anything, he was thrilled that the man was trusting him with a mission this important.

The Winter Maiden had gone dark. No one had seen or heard from her in months, and it had been Qrow’s job to find her, or, Gods forbid, recover  _her body_ , then report back.

Unexpectedly, and more than a bit disappointingly, the mission had ended early, and with no results. The Ozpin’s lead had turned up at a dead end, which was absolutely bizarre. Oz was never wrong when it came to information on the Maidens. A bit different than what was actuality, perhaps, but never completely  _wrong_.

Qrow had been furious, utterly disgusted with himself despite the fact it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t find her. Needing something to take the edge off of his disappointment, he had gone to a seedy bar at the edge of the town he had been in and ordered enough liquor to knock out a Goliath. Four hours later, he had stumbled out into the night, his addled, drunken brain allowing the bird in him temporarily take over his thoughts. It had wanted to head straight to the forest to nest in a tree, and Qrow had gladly let it guide him. Why not let the more primal side of him take the reigns? That way he wouldn’t have to think about Dorothy. To think about _Summer_.

And then-

Qrow frowned, winced.  _Gods_ did his head hurt. He breathed deeply, pushing past the pain so he could focus on his thoughts. Slowly, excruciatingly, tiny pieces of his memory fell into place, and a cold chill found its way into Qrow’s veins as he finally remembered just what happened to him.

There had been a shadow of a person stepping out from between two buildings, walking behind him. A hand had grabbed his shoulder before he could react. Bright, flashing lights accompanied by excruciating pain that set every inch of his body on fire tore through him, making him scream soundlessly in agony.

He had collapsed. And then…

_Darkness._

Qrow growled softly under his breath. He had been attacked, that much was clear. How long he’d been out, or why the unknown person had targeted him specifically, he had no clue. Quite frankly he was shocked to have woken up at all. Why wasn’t he lying under ten feet of dirt right now and pushing up daisies?

Whoever it was that attacked him, they probably wanted something. Qrow wouldn’t give it. He didn’t give a damn what it was, these fuckers were going to pay for doing this to him. But before he could do anything, Qrow had to get out of here, wherever  _here_ was. He would either be able to talk his way out of this, or he’d figure out a way to escape.

Hopefully.

Qrow  _really_ hated it when his life depended on  _hopefully_.

He pried his eyes open slowly, cautiously, letting his eyes adjust to the light-

And he started violently, surprised.

A man was sitting quietly on an armchair a few feet away from the bed Qrow was lying was on, sipping a china cup of what the Huntsman assumed was tea.

For the briefest of moments, Qrow felt like laughing, because looking around himself this was not  _at all_ how he thought this was going to be. Instead of some grimy cot, Qrow was tied down to a nice bed with soft sheets. The room itself wasn’t fancy, it was pretty sparse, actually, but it was a far cry better than the cheap motel Qrow had been staying at. And then there was the man. He held himself in a way that screamed Atlassian, a smug and arrogant smile showing from under his mustache. He smirked at Qrow as he caught his gaze.

"Welcome back, Mr. Branwen," they said, no small amount of humor in their voice.

Qrow frowned, tugging uselessly at the restraints tied to his wrists and ankles. Now that he could see them, he realized he was bound in aura depleting chains, his own aura dampened so thoroughly that it could barely be felt inside of him, much less leave the barrier of his skin. Even in his current state, Qrow couldn’t help but admire the mechanisms used to bind him. They were meant to block the use of any semblances, no matter what the kind, and they were rather impressively designed. After a minute though he frowned, a stab of panic landing in his gut as he realized that meant he couldn’t transform into his bird form either, which was a very. Big. _Fuck._

He struggled harder, feeling more than a little panicked, and the man chuckled. "You and I both know you have no chance of escaping your binds, Huntsman, so please, _relax_."

Qrow glared at him, gave his restraints one last tug just to be contrary, then groaned, sagging back down uselessly on the blankets. "So,” he drawled, “Did we _sleep_ together,” Qrow’s face twisted in disgust, “Or did you take me prisoner?”

The man tilted his head as he studied Qrow, a contemplative look on his face that only served to make Qrow’s stomach churn even more. He was honest to the Gods worried that his constraints were some sort of sick kink; that maybe he had dreamed up getting attacked from behind and that this person had simply gotten him to do some very regrettable, very  _stupid_ , things while he was drunk.

“Should I be concerned that you don’t remember?” the man asked conversationally a moment later, standing up and setting his teacup down on the side table next to his chair.

“Nah, too much to drink will do that to you,” Qrow muttered, wishing he could rub his temples. He looked down at himself once more and was relieved to confirm that he was, in fact, still dressed. He glanced back up at the man, frowning. “So, am I correct to assume you work for **_her_**?”

The man’s grin turned downright sardonic, and he brought a hand to a chin, rubbing it in mock thoughtfulness. “Whoever could you possibly mean?” he asked innocently. “That’s just much too vague, I’m afraid you will have to be more specific.”

Qrow gave him a look that expressed just how unimpressed he was, and the man chuckled again. “Very well, Branwen. Yes, I am associated with the-” he emphasized his next words by rolling his eyes, “ _Wicked Witch of the West_ , as you and the rest of Ozpin’s merry band have so kindly dubbed her. My name is Watts, _Doctor_ , Watts.”  

 _Watts._ That name sounded familiar… did Jimmy know who this guy was?

“Do you always introduce yourself to your victims before you torture them?" Qrow asked aloud, pushing his other thought aside for later.

"I suppose that would be the polite thing to do, but no, not usually."

“Am I supposed to feel privileged that you decided to make an exception for me, then?”

Watts snorted. “If you like,” he responded, his voice light and horrendously casual. “You know,” he said, coming even closer to Qrow, “I've been looking forward to this meeting for  _quite_ some time.”

“Should I be flattered?" Qrow asked, trying to match him in tone.

Because he wasn't.  _Terrified_ was a bit more accurate. To have that, that  ** _witches_** , cronies actively seeking him out? That was just…  _so_ bad on  _so_ many levels. 

“You are to my lady’s operation what grit is to clockwork,” the doctor said lightly. “A nuisance, I’ll admit, but very easily removed. So yes, I think you should feel flattered.”

Qrow growled. “You assho-”

“Are you comfortable, Branwen?” Watt’s asked suddenly, coming to a stop by the side of the bed. “I had rather hoped the chains wouldn’t chafe your wrists. They are quite… _dexterous_.”

He stared down at the Huntsman intently, almost hungrily, and Qrow had to resist the urge to squirm. “Awe, you concerned about me, doc?” Qrow said instead, scoffing up at Watts. “We’ll don’t worry your pretty little mustache, I just _love_ waking up with a migraine and chains. It’s a winning combination, truly,” he said, throwing in an eye roll for good measure. “How on earth did you know my preferences?”

Watts’s eyes lit up, taking on a glint that immediately made Qrow nervous. They weren’t filled with anger like Qrow would have expected. They burned instead with something that he couldn’t decipher, and Qrow had to bite his tongue, doubling his efforts to keep from shifting restlessly.

"I'm relieved to hear you find it so, _accommodating_ ," Watts said, either unaware of Qrow's sarcasm or - more likely - simply choosing to ignore it.

“Yep, point me in the direction of ‘How to be an Asshole Monthly’ and I’ll make sure to write a great review about you. A ten outta ten kidnapping experience, truly.”

Watts smile in response to that was all teeth, and it made the hairs on the back of Qrow’s neck stand on end. “I wasn’t sure what to expect from you, Branwen," he said. "But...” he paused, grinning with wicked delight. “I’m finding your reactions most delightful.”

Qrow snarled. “I’m not here to entertain you,” he spat. “Get to the Gods damned point. What in the Hells do you want?”

Watts sighed, staring at Qrow ruthfully. “A pity, I had been enjoying our little conversation. Very well Branwen,” he said, putting his arms behind his back as he glared down at Qrow. “Believe it or not, I was merely in this dismal little town on a small errand, and had not expected Ozpin’s most trusted spy, _intoxicated_ , no less,” Qrow winced, “To come stumbling my way.”

At Qrow’s growl, he laughed. “It’s true what they say, isn’t it? Bad luck follows you like the plague. I do believe, however, that currently this is working very much in my favor.”

Qrow scowled. God's help him, the man was absolutely right, Qrow and his stupid semblance had brought this on himself. “What is it you want?” he asked again, swallowing the shame that had crawled up his throat. There would be time for that later. Right now, he had to get the fuck out of this mess.

“A great many things,” Watts said idely.

“Such as?”

“The location of the Fall Maiden.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t unexpected. Qrow gave the Doctor a false, helpless smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know that,” he said with fake remorse, shrugging his shoulders to the best of his abilities. Damn, the chains were tight.

“Is that so?” Watts asked.

“Yep, ‘fraid I haven’t seen her in a while, but I’m sure she’ll come back in a few seasons. Feel free to stick an icicle up your ass in the meantime, I’m sure by the time it melts she’ll be here.”

Watts laughed. “I see your reputation about your vulgar mouth is well earned. Honestly, you’re everything I had hoped you would be.”

“Suck a dick,” Qrow snapped, finally having enough. “I’m not telling you anything, you piece of Grimm shit!”

Qrow expected Watts to hit him, but to his shock, nothing happened. His words didn’t even do anything to dispel Watts' smile. If anything it only seemed to broaden, which finally made Qrow shift uneasily, the chains rattling as he moved uncomfortably.

“Are you certain?” the man challenged. “I really can’t persuade you to tell me, Branwen?"

Qrow bared his teeth. "Go. Fuck. Yourself," he spat, punctuating each of the three words with equal amounts of hatred.

Watts raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, sneering down at the bound huntsman. “Now why would I do that, when I have  _you_ to do it for me?”

Qrow blinked, all thoughts of escape, of freeing himself, screeching to a sudden halt as he stared incredulously at Watts. He fought the urge to let shock register on his face as the man's eyes mapped out every inch of his body hungrily, pausing briefly to stare between Qrow's legs before they made their journey back up to his face. He grinned at the Huntsman in a way that reminded Qrow of a Beowolf; predatory, amused.

Qrow's heart skipped a beat, and  _not_ in a good way.

**_Not at all._ **

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Qrow asked, the venom vanishing from his voice as something new, something  _vile_ , coiled itself in the pit of his stomach and threatened to bring everything he had eaten the day before back up.

Watts chuckled at Qrow’s dumbfounded expression, then grabbed Qrow suddenly by his chin. “I think you heard me,” he murmured, stroking Qrow’s stubble thoughtfully with his thumb.

Qrow jerked his face away, shuddering as Watts, apparently undeterred, moved his hand lower, trailing it slowly down Qrows neck. “You sick bastard,” he spat, forcing himself to hold still as Watt’s touch set multiple alarms off in his mind. The bird in him wanted to caw with anger, to fly out of this man’s reach only to come back and peck his eyes out; maybe even crap on him for good measure. But that wasn’t an option, so Qrow forced himself to hold still.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Watts commented offhandedly, curling his fingers around Qrow’s neck. Qrow’s eyes widened and Watts smirked at the quick flash of vulnerability the spy couldn’t hide. He squeezed gently, not enough to cut off circulation but sufficient in proving he had total control over the situation, of Qrow’s  _life_. “Last chance,” he whispered, staring penetratingly into Qrows eyes. “Tell me what I wish to know, Branwen, and you will be released. Refuse, and, well-” he leaned forward, bringing his mouth to Qrow’s ear. “I don’t think I really have to tell you what will happen, now do I?” he asked, licking the shell of it.

Qrow grunted, wiping his ear in disgust on his shoulder the second Watts pulled back, taking his hand with him. "What's your answer, Branwen?" Watts asked.

Qrow grimaced, already knowing what his answer had to be, the consequences be damned. He steeled his mind and his body, took a deep breath, and made himself do what he was trained to do, what Oz was  _counting_ on him to do, regardless of the fear that dug into his chest; hot, sharp and white.

“I will  _never_ tell you where the Fall Maiden is,” he hissed defiantly.

Watts sighed with some degree of contentment, as if that had been the answer he had hoped to hear. “Very well,” he murmured. Reaching forward, he dragged a finger up Qrow's bare arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He stopped when he reached the area under the elbow, humming thoughtfully. He then produced a cloth from his pocket and wiped the area his fingertip had been touching.

Qrow jerked the second the cloth touched him, trying desperately to pull away. "W-what are you doing?” he asked nervously, his stutter betraying his fear more than his expression was. The Huntsman cringed, cursing himself. Vocally faltering in front of the enemy was something he had come to realize over time wasn’t an especially good idea, and right now was no exception.

“I’m preparing your arm for an injection,” Watts stated clinically, putting the cloth away and producing a small case from the same pocket. He opened it, and Qrow felt his eyes widen as he caught sight of a small syringe. Qrow watched with growing horror as the Watts - cliche as fuck, apparently - tested it, letting a little bit of the purple liquid dribble to the surface.

“Wow, a doctor with a syringe kink, how shocking,” he deadpanned, struggling to keep the panic from his voice. When his jab didn't get a reply, Qrow growled and tugged even harder against the restraints, snarling as Watts positioned the needle above his arm. "Don't you _dare_ -"

Qrow cut himself off with a shout, agony tearing into his body where Watts touched it. He opened his eyes - when had they fallen closed? - and blinked in confusion at the man. Just what the Grimm spawn was that!?

Staring into the doctor's eyes, Qrow could see they were glowing, the green orbs sparking with-

_Electricity?_

Watts smirked at Qrows dumfounded expression. "Our world is full of dramatic ironies, is it not?" he asked cheerfully. "Names can hold so much meaning over a person's capabilities. Yours is an excellent example." He brought his hand to Qrow's face, cupping his cheek the way a lover would. " _And so is mine_."

Qrow watched, mystified as the doctor's eyes seemingly glowed brighter, streaks of lightning dancing in his pupils-

And an instant later Qrow knew nothing but pain.

His threw his head back in a silent scream, his teeth cutting into the inside of his cheek as he writhed, trying desperately to get away from Watts' hand. It hurt, it hurt, oh Gods it _hurt!_

"My semblance," Watts whispered as he drew his hand back, ignoring Qrow's cry of relief. "I can conduct large quantities of electricity, and expel it from my body anytime I chose. What I did to you just now is nothing compared to the voltage I could make you endure." 

Qrow blinked past tears, whimpering as Watts leered down at him. "You chose this, Branwen," he reminded Qrow. "Now, hold still or the next shock will be much, much worse."  

Once again the doctor brought the needle to Qrow's arm, and the thought  _this isn't happening,_ barely had time to register in Qrow's mind before it was happening. The needle sank deep into his forearm, and Qrow hissed at the burning sensation, watching as the liquid in the syringe slowly disappeared into his arm. It was a large needle, and Qrow released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding when Watts finally pulled it out. “What did you just inject me with?” he whispered, fighting the urge to scream.

Watts ignored him, placing the needle back into the case before tucking it into his pocket once more.

“ _Tell me what you just gave me,_ **_damn it!_** ” Qrow demanded, rage swelling around his words and chasing back the dizzying weakness brought on by whatever drug Watts had just injected into his system. 

"Oh, just a little something to,  _warm you up_ ," Watts said mildly as he walked back over to where he had left his teacup. He took a sip, and he grinned at Qrow, wide and devious and so full of horrible promise that it made Qrow shudder.

Qrow’s heart was pounding so loud, his skin felt cold, clammy. It was getting harder and harder to breathe; he couldn't get enough oxygen into his lungs as Watts walked slowly, predatorily, back to the bed. He climbed up onto it and reached down towards Qrow, his intentions clear.

“Don’t you fucking  _dare_!” Qrow spat, twisting to the best of his abilities in the restraints. His limbs were growing heavy, and it was getting harder and harder to thrash the way he wanted to. He didn't care if Watts was going to shock him again if Qrow kept resisting, the man wasn't going to touch him! He had to get out of here, he had to-

"Don't!" he screeched as Watts' hands came down to touch him.   

Watts ignored him and began to unbutton Qrow’s shirt. Qrow shouted until his throat hurt, nearly sobbing, but he went deadly silent as the doctor stroked his bare chest. The Huntsman sucked in a harsh breath and held it as the deceptively gentle fingers traveled softly over his skin and traced his scars, making goosebumps rise on his flesh. The moment they brushed his nipples, however, Qrow cried out and kicked his legs uselessly in his restraints.

“S-stop it you bastard!” he snarled, the effect ruined by the shakiness of his voice.

“You can’t do this,” he managed, shuddering as the doctor's hands began to travel back down, getting horribly close to his crotch. The words were hollow, devoid of any real strength, but for the sake of his own pride, Qrow said them anyway, regardless of the fact he knew they were falling on deaf ears.

“I regret to inform you, my dear Branwen,” Watts said pleasantly as he unbuttoned Qrow’s pants, “That I already am.”

His voice was a purr in Qrow’s ear, and a broken sound slipped past Qrow’s lips as Watts hands finally reached their intended destination. The doctor forgoed his softness and grasped Qrow’s cock in his hand, squeezing and stroking it mercilessly as Qrow choked on heart-wrenching cries, his words barely legible as he begged the man to stop.

“Why should I stop when I can feel how much you’re enjoying this?” Watts asked, caressing Qrow almost reverently.

“It’s the drugs!” Qrow shouted. “It’s not me, _it’s not!_ I would never want-”

He cut himself off with a moan; pathetic and wanton as Watts scraped his thumbnail over the head.

“I’ve barely even started and you’re already flushed so prettily,” the man whispered, bringing his hand to lips. He licked it, then resumed stroking Qrow, the slide easier now, and so, _so **good**_. 

 _Oh Gods_ _,_ Qrow thought, refusing to think that again. His traitorous cock was starting to take an interest, and from the look in Watts’ eyes, the man knew it too. The doctor chuckled lowly in an unsaid conformation, and Qrow held back a whimper.

"See?" Watts purred. "You're doing so beautifully."

Qrow snarled animalistically in reply but whined a moment later as the doctor leaned forward, sucking Qrow’s neck hard enough to bruise it. “Just give in, Branwen,” he whispered, licking the abused skin. “Let the pleasure wash over you, because this is what this is, _pleasure_.” He emphasized his point by drawing his hand back, chuckling as Qrow's hips bucked to chase the sweet friction. “You know you want me to continue.”

Qrow’s head was swimming and his nerves were on  _fire_. He could feel whatever Watts gave him burning like acid in his veins, eroding his control into a puddle of nothingness. Watts hummed as he trailed a path of bruising kissing along the huntsman's flesh, biting Qrow's collarbone hard enough to make him gasp. 

“Beg for it, Branwen,” Watts demanded, “Tell me how much you want this.” He smirked when Qrow closed his eyes and shook his head, sweat flying off the ends of his hair. “Perhaps I need to do more to help you, _relax_ ,” the man murmured.

Qrow felt him moving farther down his body, and his eyes snapped open as he felt warm air hit his straining erection. He stared at the ceiling, refusing to look down at the man between his legs. A moment later something warm and wet slid up his length, and he gasped, trying to simultaneously move away and lean into the touch.

“You taste wonderful,” Watts purred. He dragged his tongue along Qrow’s head, laughing wickedly as the Huntsman choked on keens. “You want it badly, don’t you?” he teased cruelly, blowing cold air onto the now straining erection.

Qrow stared down at him through half-lidded eyes, shivering. Fear and lust had braided together until Qrow didn’t know which one was which anymore, and while his mind screamed  _stop_ , his body was beginning to, to…

“Well, Branwen?”

Qrow wanted to say no, but he knew the second he opened his mouth, he’d be giving in. Whatever the sociopath had injected into his system, it had turned Qrow into a puddle of nothing but  _need_. Need, need and  _want_. Watts blew again, and he swallowed harshly, nodding.

“ ** _Yes,_** ” he said brokenly, barely above a whisper.

Watts rewarded him by giving another long, slow lick. Qrow moaned, loud and wanton as wet pressure dipped into the slit, swirled once, then pulled back, leaving Qrow’s cock twitching in its wake. "Very well."

He gave Qrow one last lick, then swallowed him whole.

“Oh Gods, _Watts!_ ” Qrow shouted, trying desperately to buck his hips into that sinfully warm mouth. It felt so good. It felt so fucking good, and Qrow hated it, hated it so fucking much.

When he finally came only a few minutes later, Watts milked him through it, then removed his mouth with an obscene pop. “My name sounds so delightful when you moan it.” His voice was smug as he licked cum from where it dripped onto his chin. “And your expression,” he reached forward and brushed Qrow’s hair out of his face, ignoring his pitiful whimper, “Absolutely stunning. How I would love to show your precious comrades how you look now; show them what a _slut_ you are.”

Qrow’s body shook, and he fought desperately against instinctive feelings of loss at the removal of Watts’ mouth.

“Now,” Watts said, “For the main event.” He brought his hands down to grab Qrow’s ass through his pants, but at the flash of panic on Qrow’s face, he paused. He studied the Huntsman curiously, confused. A thought suddenly struck him, and his mouth parted soundlessly. Qrow squirmed uncomfortably under his stare.

“ _What!?_ ” he finally snapped.

Watts finally met his eyes again, that horrible smirk twice as large as before. "You haven’t done this before,” he breathed.

Qrow's breathing hitched and he turned his head, refusing to answer.

"Don't misunderstand me, I know you've led  _quite_ the sex life, Branwen, both with women and the occasional man," Watts continued, seeming to take Qrow's silence as embarrassment. "But I don't believe you've ever bottomed, have you?" He smiled wickedly. "Were you saving yourself for someone  _special?_ ” he asked mockingly. “Well, don't worry, little bird,” he murmured, rubbing his hands down Qrow’s sides in what he probably thought was a soothing gesture, “I'll take  _good_ care of you."

"Shut up, _Shut up,_ **_shut up!_** " Qrow shouted, shuddering as another wave of terror swept through him. Damn Watts, damn the friggin drugs in his system, damn _everything!_

Before he could even blink, the next thing Qrow knew Watts had pulled his pants down as far as they would go on his restrained legs. He then took a firm and dominating grip on Qrow’s hips, kneading his fingers into the exposed flesh. Qrow keened and tried to buck the man off of him, but all it did was shift them slightly, and Watts simply pressed his fingers harshly into the Huntsman's skin, pinning Qrow down again.

“The Maiden?” he asked calmly.

“F-fuck you!”

Watts merely chuckled. “Eloquently put,” he said, “But you’re the only one getting fucked here, little bird.”

Sitting himself on top of Qrow’s hips so the Huntsman couldn’t move, Watts took a bottle of lube out of his pocket. Qrow snarled as it circled his rim, and fought the urge to sob as Watts’ finger finally penetrated his body. Qrow had never had someone besides himself put anything there, and the shock of a thick digit sliding into him was too much. He gasped around a shuddering cry; his thighs beginning to shake. Qrow writhed as the finger curled, cursing and sobbing as Watts stretched him open.

Watts studied each of his reactions, honing in on every expression Qrow made as he probed inside of his body relentlessly. "Look at you," Watts purred, "You take my fingers so well. Are you enjoying yourself, Branwen?"

" _No,_ " Qrow sobbed, “I’m not, this isn’t, I would _never_ -”

He cried out hoarsely, straining even farther in the restraints as pleasure, hot and electric, ran up his spine. Watts chuckled. Clearly, he had found the huntsman’s prostate. He pressed his finger on the same spot, humming satisfactorily as he watched Qrow bite his lips to hold in a moan.

“None of that, Branwen.” he chided. “I want to  _hear_ you _._ ”

He curled his finger, and Qrow didn’t even try to hold back his scream. Watts grinned sardonically, then leaned forward to initiate a harsh kiss that Qrow immediately responded to, whining pitifully into the doctor's mouth. The lack of will to fight made him nauseous, and Qrow whimpered again as Watts stretched him further, their tongues meanwhile fighting for dominance until they pulled back for air. The only sign that the doctor was growing impatient was how quickly a third finger joined the first two, and then how hurriedly they all slipped from him, leaving Qrow feeling humiliatingly, achingly  _empty_.

He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, knowing what was coming next-

Nothing was happening.

He blinked up at Watts hesitantly, wondering why the man wasn’t moving. Watts was staring down at Qrow with an eyebrow raised expectantly, almost as if he were waiting for something.

 _He wants me to beg,_ Qrow thought.

He sank his teeth into his bottom lip till it bled, his face a fiery inferno as he met Watts’ eyes angrily. He was practically drowning with unwanted lust at this point, his cock straining painfully, but he  _wouldn’t_ beg. It would be too humiliating. Still, Watts wasn’t budging.

“W-what are you waiting for?” Qrow eventually growled, “A fucking written invitation? Get-” he moaned as Watts dragged a finger up his cock, trying in vain to thrust his hips forward. “ _On with it!_ ” he snarled, praying to any God that could hear him that his voice sounded more demanding than pleading.

Watts smirked and pulled his own erection free from the confines of his pants, and Qrow absolutely _did not_ _stare_. Grabbing the lube the doctor began leisurely spreading it on his aching member, biting his lip as he moaned with pleasure, which, much to Qrows shame, made his own cock twitch with interest. The wait while Watts slicked himself up, ever so thoroughly, was the greatest torture that Qrow had ever experienced. The second Watts grabbed his legs and spread them as wide as the restraints would allow him to, though, positioning himself above Qrow with careful, sick precision, Qrow wished the doctor had just gotten himself off and had left him the fuck alone.

The room suddenly felt far too hot as despair and lust intermixed in the pit of Qrow’s stomach. He closed his eyes, trembling as he bit his lip harder, trying to keep his unwanted sobs at bay. He clenched his eyes even tighter as Watts’ cock pressed against his entrance.

“What a magnificent sight,” Watts purred, scraping his nails up and down Qrow’s chest.

Qrow shivered, a single tear cascading down his cheek as Watts finally slammed inside of him.

It burned, a polar opposite to the sheen of cold sweat that covered Qrow's body. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, and Watts used that moment to force his mouth onto his. Qrow’s eyes flew open, and he whimpered, fighting against the intrusion as Watts tried to lick inside.

The man began pounding ruthlessly in him, and Qrow tried desperately to rationalize everything, to accept the fact that Watts was a sick bastard with some kind of twisted fixation on him; tried comfort himself with trite reassurances that no matter what was happening to him, it wasn't his fault. But the drug - _it_ ** _had_** _to be the drug_ \- was making some horrible, weak part of him  _want_ this. Qrow  _didn’t_ want this,  _didn’t_ want Watts, and yet his body bucked and strained, every nerve crying out for touches, tastes, **_anything_**. Qrow hadn't expected this, hadn't expected to feel anything other than horror, pain, and disgust. He knew that he was drugged, that his body was working against him, but there was something more, something carnal, crouching at the back of his mind and actually  _enjoying_ this.

He was making urgent noises in the back of his throat, trying not to cry out. He felt like doing that would be giving in, and he wouldn’t,  _couldn’t_ give in, even as warm lust pooled in his stomach. The slap of skin against skin turned almost deafening, and Qrow screamed as a particularly hard thrust made waves of pleasure render him almost blind.

He couldn’t do this.

Couldn’t hold himself together, it was too much, _too much_.

It was impossible to hold back his moans, the cries of pleasure that were announcing themselves now just as often as the cries of pain. He couldn’t hide the way his body tensed and his toes tried to curl in his shoes. His cock throbbed with every pulse of his heartbeat, and he could feel desire surging with the pleasure-pain, welling up like blood from broken vessels until Qrow felt like he was going to explode.

Watts didn’t do more than occasionally give a damning praise to spur Qrow on, much to his relief. He didn’t want Watts to talk, didn’t want to be reminded that his body was being used for someone else’s pleasure. At a particularly hard thrust Qrow cawed Watts’ name; whether he was giving him praise or damnations even he couldn't tell.

His sounds of torment and pleasure blended into one another as Watts slammed unforgivingly into him, the boundaries of either no longer holding any meaning. His spine bowed, hips juddering in time to Watts’ movements, and a bitter caw left his lips as Watts bit suddenly into his shoulder. Need, pure and black and near to bursting was rapidly building inside Qrow's body, and he knew he couldn’t take much more of Watts' ministrations. "Touch me," he pleaded brokenly, trying desperately not to thrust his hips in time with Watts’.

“I am touching you,” Watts said, his pace never even stuttering.

Qrow whimpered, stars exploding behind his eyes as Watts hit his prostate again and again. "My cock," Qrow choked out. "Touch my cock… _please._ "

Watts paused for a moment, making Qrow whine loudly, wanton and needy. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he drawled, ghosting his hand over it.

His wrapped his fingers around it slowly, and Qrow almost cried with relief, trying desperately to thrust into it. Watts chuckled at his desperation, then started to steadily pump Qrow’s length in time with his thrusts. Qrow’s breath became faster and shallower, and he threw his head back, howling a stream of nonsense and profanities as he drew closer to his climax.

“ _Yes,_ ” Watts hissed. “More Branwen, scream for me!”

Qrow wailed, the sound torn from his throat like a wounded animal. His release spilled over Watts' hand and onto his own chest, and Qrow shuddered with relief. Watts came a second later, moaning wantonly into Qrow’s bruised skin.

Every one of Qrow’s muscles tensed spasmodically, and then his body relaxed, melting against the bed as Watts pulled himself out. He didn't even try to pull away as the Doctor pressed one more kiss chastely to his lips, breathing out a tired "extraordinary," before standing up. Qrow shivered violently, hating how cold he was without the man on top of him. He swallowed a few times, wincing at how sore his throat was.

“Bastard,” he whispered. “If it weren’t for these chains or those fucking drugs…”

Watts chuckled, shaking his head in mock sympathy at Qrow. “The drug simply relaxes certain muscles and inhibitions,” he stated, not even glancing up as he straightened his jacket. “It doesn’t create anything that isn't already there.”

Qrow's eyes widened, and then they closed, his body trembling. That meant that meant all of that desire, it had been  _his?_ Not an effect of a drug, but his own stupid body lusting for the enemy!?

He shook his head violently, his eyes squeezed shut as tightly as he could. "No, no  _you're_ ** _lying!_** " he shouted, tears streaming unbidden down his cheeks.

He started as Watts grab his chin, forcing Qrow to look up at him. His eyes were wild; amusement that was drowning in madness. “Am I?” Watts asked, tilting his head to one side.

Then the doctor’s eyes began to glow again, and suddenly Qrow felt a jolt tear through him. He writhed in agony, letting out a strangled scream as the world went blissfully black.

When he opened his eyes again, the restraints were gone...

And so was Watts.


End file.
